


The Birth of Guyver V

by Troper_Nyaru



Series: Son of Mine [2]
Category: Guyver
Genre: Attempted Murder, Attempted framing, Don't Try This At Home, F/M, Gen, Kidapping, M/M, Psychological Manipulation, Psychological Warfare, Transhumanism, dirtbike racing, mental manipulation, parental abandonment, seriously don't, stunt driving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-06 06:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 77,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11030367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Troper_Nyaru/pseuds/Troper_Nyaru
Summary: In Colorado, a new Guyver is discovered, Sean and the ACTF begin to take more losses than they inflict, and Imakarum Mirabilis tries to balance being a father with being a Chronos Lord.





	1. Normal days and Mondays

**_ Disclaimer: _ ** _ I don’t own Guyver; Stargate: SG-1 or anything else you might see in this story. Oh, but I do own Ryan and Ingriam. And Howard, too. Many thanks to my beta, Polished Quill, for the final going-over of this story. _

** **

** The Birth of Guyver V **

It was a completely normal day. Or, it would have been if not for the fact that his class had decided to go on a fieldtrip. It wasn’t that he minded this turn of events—in fact, he was glad about it, since being in the outside world was always better than being shut up inside a dark, stuffy classroom all day.

Ryan, running a hand though his short, fiery red hair, looked around for the other members of his class. Ryan Crouger; that was his name. The entire class was out hiking around one of the high, forbidding cliffs that stood like lonely sentinels at the far edge of the small city where he lived. They were a nice place to visit, but he was glad not to live there.

No doubt about it, though—this place is a lot more interesting than any of those mind-numbing "lessons" any day of the week. _Ryan grinned and started walking again. He always tended to fall behind on outings like this. His mom often thought that it was because he didn’t want to hurry up and risk missing any of the sights, but Ryan just thought it was because he wanted to delay his inevitable return to school._

Either way, variants on the same situation had been played out every time Ryan had been sent out on a trip with his classmates. Little did he know just how much he was about to be delayed. Kicking a pebble, then kicking the rock that it had landed next to, Ryan made another half-hearted attempt to find the rest of his class.

He was currently standing on the edge of a broad, flat, rocky plain. Looking around, he found that there was nothing really interesting about this particular place and so felt confident that he didn’t need to pay that much attention to his surroundings. That would prove to be something of a mistake.

As he was making his way across the plain, Ryan didn’t take any notice of the fact that there were small cracks spider-webbing the surface under his feet, and the ground dipped slightly under his weight as he walked deeper into the center of the plain. He was too focused on how much he didn’t want to go back to school to even notice.

It was only when the ground literally fell out from under him that Ryan realized that something was wrong by then it was already too late. With a yelp of extreme surprise, Ryan fell into the underground cave that he had inadvertently discovered. Then the ground slammed into him with brutal force, and Ryan knew nothing more…

The first thing Ryan noticed as he struggled back to consciousness was the stabbing pain radiating upward from his left hand. Looking at the afflicted hand, he found that there was a sharp piece of rock sticking through his palm. Since his right arm was stuck under a small pile of rocks—which hurt like a son of a bitch now that he thought about it—he brought his left hand up to his mouth and clamped his teeth down on the shard of rock.

Pulling it out, Ryan spat the shard into a small pile of rocks off to his left. Then he pulled his right arm out from under the rubble that had been piled on top of it.

"Ahh! Shit!" Ryan shook his arm out, trying to get it to stop hurting so much.

Deciding that finding help was a pretty good idea, Ryan got up and started to walk, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to climb back up and out of the hole. And even if he could, the sides looked too unstable to risk doing something like that. Looking for any source of light, he saw something flash just a few feet in front of him, but it was way too dim to be anything resembling an exit.

In fact, it looked almost metallic, no matter how weird that might sound to someone else. The thing—whatever it was—seemed to be wedged in the rock somehow. As his eyes became more adjusted to the darkness, he could see that it wasn’t like anything he had ever seen before. For one thing, there was a small silver half-sphere placed like a bull’s-eye in the center of something that Ryan couldn’t quite make out at the moment.

In fact, if Ryan had been asked to describe what he was seeing right then, he’d have said that it looked vaguely like a dartboard. Crouching down in front of the dartboard-looking thing, he reached out to touch it. The outer edges were slightly warm and sort of squishy—at least where they weren’t covered over by smooth metal.

But when he reached the center, where the flashing thing was, he only had time to register that it was warm before the entire thing exploded into a mass of writhing tentacles. The tentacles quickly enveloped him, and he tried in vain to pull them off. As they covered him completely, he screamed as he felt them digging into his skin like they were trying to pull him apart, and the pain was nearly unbearable.

After a few more minutes of that, Ryan blacked out.

XxXxXxX

The Guyver’s Control Medal flashed twice, and the newly activated Guyver unit rose to its feet. The first and last thing that the Guyver’s biocomputer mind could recall was bonding to its new host, and as it scanned the host’s brainwaves, it found that its host was unconscious at the moment. Not possessing the sentience necessary to worry at the moment, the Guyver scanned the interior of the cavern it was now standing in.

Finding an exit, the Guyver headed for it. Scanning the brainwaves of its host again, the Guyver found that the human—a male—was just starting to regain consciousness.

XxXxXxX

As Ryan slowly came around, he started to notice that he was walking. That was weird enough, but after taking a quick look down, Ryan’s definition of "weird" was quickly revised: his left arm, left leg, and left foot—in fact the entire left side of his body—was covered in some kind of insectile gray armor. Looking at the right side, Ryan found that his entire _body_ was covered in the stuff.

Bringing his hands up to touch his face, he found that while he could still feel things with his fingers and the palms of his hands, the sensations were… distant somehow. It was like his senses were being amplified, while at the same time diverted through something that was taking the edge off of what he was sensing.

It was a weird thing to think, but that was evidently what was happening. Stepping around a pile of rocks, Ryan suddenly remembered that there were going to be a lot of other people looking for him once they noticed that he was missing. It might have been interesting to see just what this armor stuff could _really_ do, but if anyone saw him like this it was sure to lead to all kinds of unanswerable questions.

And Ryan wasn’t even completely sure himself how he’d ended up covered from head to toe in the stuff in the first place. First he tried to peel it off, but all he managed to do was open one of the chestplates, and when he checked to see if the other chestplate would open the same way, he found that it did. Running his right hand—the one that wasn’t occupied with holding open his left chestplate—over the inside and coming away with some kind of goo on his fingers, Ryan rubbed them together. It felt like some kind of mucous.

_ Okay, now this is getting kinda gross, _ Ryan thought, looking at the mucous he’d collected. _I wonder how you get this stuff off?_ As soon as he had that thought, though, the armor peeled off and disappeared behind him. Turning quickly, he saw the glowing form of the armor turn transparent and seem to just vanish into the air a few feet back from where he’d been standing.


	2. Beyond the Norm

"Oh…kay," Ryan said, staring at the space that the armor had just vacated. Then, remembering that he didn’t have all day to just stand around and stare at things that weren’t there anymore, Ryan left.

Turning and walking out of the cave, Ryan shook his head—this was all just too weird. Once he got out of the cave, he saw most of his classmates searching around the rocky plateau for something and had the distinct feeling that he knew what—or rather, _who—_ they were all looking for.

"Hey Tom-boy, what’s the haps?"

"Ryan?!" Thomas Jamison turned with a nearly audible snap, looking right at the person who the entire class was currently trying to find.

They’d all seen the huge hole in the ground, and when their teacher had done a head-count and come up one short, the inevitable conclusion was drawn: one Ryan Crouger, the red-haired smartass, was missing. Once the teacher had stopped panicking long enough to think, she had organized the entire class into a search party.

Now, seeing the object that said search party had been looking for standing right in front of him making wisecracks as he usually did, there was only one thing that Thomas could do: tell the teacher that their search was over.

"Come on," he said, pulling Ryan along by the arm. "The least we could do is go tell the rest of the idiot brigade that you finally decided to show up."

"Hey, d’ya think I actually _wanted_ to end up stuck down that hole?" Ryan demanded, annoyed at the implications he heard.

"Well, now that you mention it, probably not," Tom admitted.

"All right," Ryan said decisively. "Let’s get out of here."

"I’ll go with that," Thomas said.

The two of them made their way back to the rest of the class, whose reaction to seeing that Ryan was back was just about what Ryan had expected: mostly unenthusiastic. He wasn’t exactly the most well liked person in the class, if not the school in general, and if he’d cared, he might have wondered why that was. Then he would have probably come to the conclusion that his lack of friends was mostly due to his sarcasm.

But since none of that mattered to him, Ryan just ignored the cool stares from his fellow students at his return. What Ryan _was_ curious about, though, was the weird organic armor that had been hidden in the cave. It wasn’t as if a lot of people would have thought to look in that cave, and it really did seem as if that armor _wanted_ to be found.

On the other hand, though, it could be that whoever had hidden the armor in that cave hadn’t wanted it to be found at all. While it had seemed like the _armor_ had wanted to be found, whoever had buried it in that cave had probably had other ideas. Or maybe there was no real reason other than coincidence that the armor had been in that cave when Ryan had fallen into it.

Ryan sighed. _Well, back to the yawn-and-snore emporium. At least something exciting happened today._ That thought managed to make Ryan smirk a little, and Tom turned to ask just what his friend found so funny.

"What’s the happy look for, Ry? We’re going back to _school,_ if you somehow managed to forget that," Tomas said.

"Tom, first chance I get, I’m going to tell you about something seriously bizarre that happened to me today," Ryan said.

"You gotta know I’m going to hold you to that, Ry," Tomas said.

"You gotta know that’s just what I expected," Ryan shot back.

They had made it back to the school bus by now, and the fact that he was going to go back to school was finally brought home. Rolling his eyes with exaggerated disgust, he climbed onto the bus with the rest of the kids. Most of them ignored him, but a few shot him hostile looks, as if it was his fault that he’d fallen into that cave and made them go look for him.

When the teacher turned away to check something or other, Ryan flipped them off. _They’re bastards anyway, so why should I care if they like me or not?_ The answer was that he shouldn’t, and that was why he didn’t. The ride back was mostly in silence, with the occasional muttering that Ryan didn’t care enough to pay any attention to.

Pulling out his CD player, Ryan popped it open and found that he still had his _Rent_ soundtrack inside. Closing it and putting on the headphones, Ryan hit "play," skipped forward until he found track nine, then hit "repeat." The drums, electric guitars, cymbals, and Mimi’s voice filled his ears, drowning out the sounds of his fellow students, and he began to move with the rhythm of the music pumping in his ears, staring at the passing scenery outside the bus window.

As the bus made its way back to the school, Ryan had to firmly shove his urge to start singing into a mental closet and bolt the door. If there was one thing that would get him into trouble with the teacher, it was belting out show tunes at the top of his lungs—not so much for the singing itself, but for punching the other students who didn’t appreciate the performance. Either that or telling them to go fuck themselves, both of which would get him sent to the principal’s office.

Ryan had spent enough time there of late, but it was really only because he had gotten fed up with being surrounded by idiots and given one of them the royal ass-kicking he’d been begging for for a long time. The principal and the guidance councilor both thought that the fight had been some sort of cry for attention, though how they had managed to come to that supremely idiotic conclusion when he’d even told the guy to stay the hell away from him Ryan was sure he’d never know.

But then again, most of the people in that stupid dump probably couldn’t tell their heads from their asses without a lot of help. So maybe that was why Principal Dumbass and Mr. Touchy-Feely couldn’t get something that simple. Maybe it was something in the water, which made Ryan grateful all over again that his mom always had the good sense to pack him bottled water.

As the bus pulled inevitably closer to its final destination, Ryan sighed—he hated this place with a fiery passion reserved for very few other things, but his mom had insisted that he needed to stay so he could get a good education. So Ryan dealt with the morons as best he could. His "therapy" involved lots of music, turned up so loudly that he had trouble hearing anything else, a comfortable bed, lots of sleep when he could get it, karaoke when he could make the time for it, and every kind of food that he liked to eat. His mom was a great cook when she found the time for it, and his dad practically had the number of Round Table Pizza tattooed on his forehead, so Ryan was pretty well covered when it came to food. 

Bored now with Mimi’s "Out Tonight," Ryan switched over to Mimi and Roger’s duet "Another Day" and sighed again as he started to recognize the landmarks that meant that they were almost back at the school.

When the bus pulled back into the huge parking lot, Ryan hauled himself out of his seat with a sigh of pure annoyance. So much for his hope that the bus would break down somewhere. As he waited for the rest of the bus to clear out, Ryan started absently messing with the strap of his watch, and once the bus was empty, Ryan made his own way out. The shouts and other noises made by his fellow students were dulled to almost nothing by the music pumping in his ears. He was swaying to the beat, so he didn’t notice that one of his least favorite people was coming toward him: Detrik Johanson, the single most annoying guy in a school that, as far as Ryan was concerned, was full of nothing but pinheads, morons, twits, and various other breeds of loser.

Ryan stretched with almost catlike grace, closing his eyes as he yawned, and only noticed Detrik when the larger boy gave him a shove in the chest, nearly causing him to fall on his butt. Ryan did manage to keep on his feet, though. Glaring at the offending bastard, Ryan sighed in disgust when he saw who it was, turning off his CD player and taking off his headphones, handing them to Tomas as his friend came up to him.

"What’s your problem _now_? Or are you just too stupid to understand the concept of common courtesy?" Ryan chuckled nastily. "Or maybe you’re just desperately uncoordinated."

Detrik looked like he wanted nothing more than to pound Ryan’s face in for that remark, but the presence of the other kids and the teachers who were helping shepherd the remaining students back into the school convinced him that fighting would not be a good idea.

"Meet me out at the back of the blacktop after school," Detrik ordered, pointing at Ryan.

"How about you kneel down, pucker up, and kiss my ass," Ryan shot back, sounding almost bored with the proceedings.

"What are you—chicken, carrot top?"

"Okay; first rule: never call me carrot top," Ryan said irritably. "Second rule: sit on this and spin, you stupid son of a bitch."

With that, Ryan flipped Detrik off, reclaimed his CD player from Tomas, and walked away. Detrik fumed for a minute, then caught sight of one of the teachers who was still herding the few remaining students back into the school. He knew that he had better follow one of them if he didn’t want to end up getting in trouble again.

Ryan tucked his CD player back into his bag, zipping it shut and slinging the bag over his shoulder in almost one fluid motion. Making his way back to the school, slightly behind the other students wouldn’t have any ideas about trying to talk to him, Ryan started to fiddle with the strap on his watch again. _So much for anything interesting happening today. Well, aside from the obvious, of course._

Ryan chuckled, not really caring if anyone was close enough to overhear and wonder about it.

XxXxXxX

Once the last of their classes had let out for the day, Ryan and Tomas made their way out of the school. Ryan was slightly annoyed that tomorrow was Tuesday rather than Saturday, but since he didn’t have the power to bend time, there was really nothing he could do about that.

"Okay Ry, spill," Tomas demanded. "Why do you still look like the cat that ate the canary? And this even in spite of the fact that we have four more days of school to suffer through?"

"Something really interesting happened to me today—something that even being stuck in the yawn factory can’t make me forget," Ryan said, smirking.

"All right Ry, you’ve piqued my curiosity," Tomas said. "So tell."

"It’s a hell of a story, Tom-boy," Ryan said, always the one to go for the big build-up, even when he wasn’t sure what had happened himself.


	3. Midnight wanderer

It was half-an-hour past midnight when Ingriam received the order to report to Dr. Balkus for further examination. He had been told to expect something like this and so was quick to leave the comfort of his bed and follow the telepathic signal. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Lord Imakarum Mirabilis was still asleep. Not understanding entirely why he felt a connection to the Twelfth Zoalord, Ingriam almost stayed to think about the matter, but his better judgment made itself known, and he turned away to head for Dr. Balkus’ laboratory.

It was not his place to question the orders or directives of his superiors, and Dr. Balkus was one of the most prominent. The soft sound of his bare feet on the floor was magnified by his own enhanced hearing, and the young Zoalord only hoped that Lord Imakarum would not notice the sound and be awakened by it.

Dr. Balkus had given very explicit instructions to keep his existence a secret from Lord Imakarum. Ingriam was not sure why, but orders were orders, and he would not disobey one of his masters. The trip to Dr. Balkus’ laboratory was thankfully short, and Ingriam knew when Dr. Balkus wanted him to enter.

XxXxXxX

Sensing the mind of Ingriam, Dr. Balkus commanded his creation to come into his laboratory. The boy Kenji Murakami may have been Lord Imakarum’s son, but Ingriam was entirely his, and in the event that the improvements that he had made to that infuriating rebel Masaki Murakami were not sufficient to keep him loyal to Chronos, Ingriam was his secret weapon. If the former Twelfth Zoalord had not been executed by Lord Alkanphel, Dr. Balkus would perhaps have thanked him for taking the boy.

At a telepathic order from Dr. Balkus, Ingriam laid himself on the examination table. This was the second month since Ingriam—or rather, young Kenji—had made the suggestion to improve the immune systems of the Twelve Zoalords so that they would recognize Aptom’s invading cells as a virus and react accordingly. As Dr. Balkus had expected, Ingriam himself had volunteered to become the test-bed for this new modification. Dr. Balkus had been—and still was—concerned that altering the immune response of a Zoalord might very well render them immune to the retroviruses that were used to create and improve them.

Dr. Balkus wanted to be completely certain that the alterations he had made to Ingriam’s physiology would not render the young Zoalord a Lost Unit. Not only would that have been very suspicious to Imakarum, but it would also mean that there was no real way to protect the Zoalords from Aptom’s absorption ability. That alone would be annoying on a professional level, since it would have reduced the Twelve Overlords to the level of common Zoanoids when it came to dealing with Aptom.

Dr. Balkus was well aware that only a Lost Unit could resist commands from a Zoalord, 

so he intended to test Ingriam’s response to negative physical stimuli. He would attempt to maintain a firm hold on Ingriam’s mind so that the boy would not be able to move or resist. Removing a scalpel from the tray next to his hand, Dr. Balkus took full control of Ingriam’s central nervous system, then ran the sharp point of the scalpel across Ingriam’s chest.

The young Zoalord did not even flinch from the discomfort he must have felt, and while he knew that was a positive sign, he was not going to place his faith entirely on one single event. Taking hold of Ingriam’s right hand, Dr. Balkus dug the point of the scalpel into the soft flesh of Ingriam’s palm—deeply enough to draw blood—but only a single drop was spilled before Ingriam’s enhanced healing sealed the wound closed.

Again, there was not even the slightest reaction. Dr. Balkus was becoming slightly more confident about the chances that the improvements would prove to be of use to the Lords of Chronos. Still, it was always best to be completely certain of a situation before proceeding. With that in mind, Dr. Balkus eased Ingriam’s mouth open and pressed the tip of the surgical tool into the young Zoalord’s tongue, watching dispassionately as a thin trail of blood trickled deeper into Ingriam’s mouth.

It seemed that the boy had not become a Lost Unit after all.

XxXxXxX

Imakarum, reaching out to pull Kenji closer to him, brushed his hand over the body-warmed sheets where his son had been sleeping and sat up, glowing golden eyes sweeping the room while his other senses reached out to locate his son, just in case Kenji had merely gotten up for a glass of water or something of that nature. But no—Imakarum could sense that Kenji wasn’t anywhere in the room anymore.

Levering himself out of bed, Imakarum performed a light telepathic scan, searching for Kenji’s distinctive mental presence. Finding his son in Dr. Balkus’ private laboratory again, Imakarum narrowed his eyes—he would have to speak to the doctor about that, since it was really getting ridiculous. Picking up his visor and settling it back over his eyes, something that by now had become a habit for the Twelfth Zoalord, Imakarum left his room, his long strides carrying him quickly down the hallway to Balkus’ personal laboratory. The door was closed, but like all of the Chronos Overlords, Imakarum possessed the access code. Keying it in, Imakarum stepped through the door almost before it had finished opening and saw Kenji sitting on the examination table, seeming completely unharmed, with Dr. Balkus apparently just finishing up with him.

"Hey, Dad!" Kenji called, waving once Imakarum had come into his line of sight. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you that same question, Kenji-chan," Imakarum said easily, stepping up to the examination table and placing his hand on Kenji’s chest. "I think you should get back to bed now," he added as he teleported them both back to his room.

"All right, dad, but what are you going to do?" Kenji asked, tilting his head in that childishly curious way that Imakarum would never get tired of.

"I’m going to have a talk with Dr. Balkus," Imakarum said, turning away from the bed where his son now sat and teleporting back to Dr. Balkus’ private laboratory.

Once he was back in Dr. Balkus’ laboratory, Imakarum folded his arms over his chest and regarded Chronos’ top scientist with a glare that was only partially hidden behind his opaque black visor.

"What were you doing with my son?" Imakarum demanded. "This is the fourth time this month that you’ve called him in here for one of your late-night examinations. Is there something still wrong with him that you’re not telling me about?"

"There is nothing wrong with your son," Dr. Balkus said calmly. "I was just making completely certain that the last of Aptom’s invading cells were completely purged."

"While I do appreciate your thoroughness, Doctor," Imakarum answered, gritting his teeth for a moment, "I would prefer that in the future you tell me when you want to see my son for any reason. And for the last time, stop calling him to your lab at this time of night! He may not physically be a child anymore, but he still needs his rest."

"There is no more reason for me to examine your son, Lord Imakarum. As I have told you, all of the impurities within his body have been purged."

"Good," Imakarum said finally, nodding and teleporting back to his and Kenji’s shared room.

Once the last of the dimensional interference had cleared from his vision, Imakarum walked back to the bed where they had been sleeping. Kenji had already lain back down by the time Imakarum had made it back to their room, and Imakarum smiled benevolently down at his son before he climbed back into bed. Slipping off his visor, Imakarum placed it back on the table by their bed.

Once Imakarum was back in their shared bed, Kenji cuddled up to him the way that he always did, and Imakarum smiled again, more reflectively this time. He might have had the body of a twenty-five year old man, not to mention most of the powers of a Zoalord, but Kenji was still Kenji and still his baby boy.


	4. Dreams and Aftereffects

Ryan, finally back at his house after what had seemed like an eternity at school, lolled on the couch bonelessly. He wasn’t even doing anything right now—not reading one of his large collection of Calvin and Hobbes or Get Fuzzy comics, not watching one of his many anime tapes—just lazing on the couch with his eyes closed. Ever since he had gotten out of the caves, Ryan had felt somewhat lethargic.

At first he had just chalked it up to the fact that he’d still been at school, but now that he was at home and able to relax, he pretty much expected the lethargy to go away, since he didn’t intend to spend all day lolling around, of course. He still had things that he wanted to do—things that didn’t involve staring mindlessly at the ceiling or falling asleep on the couch—but as he lolled back on the couch and spaced out, it was really hard to remember just what those things were.

Closing hiseyes for just a minute, Ryan laid his head back on the soft pillows. _Just need to rest my eyes for a minute…_

"Ryan? Ryan, are you just going to sleep the rest of the day away? You haven’t even had your shower yet."

The calm, kind voice of his mom broke into Ryan’s semi-conscious mind, waking him up as surely as if she had rung a gong in his ear, albeit a great deal more gently. Rubbing his face with the back of his hand, Ryan blinked as he saw his mom leaning over him.

"Howwzat?"

Norma Crouger, long used to translating her son’s "it’s-too-fucking-early" speak, chuckled softly. "It’s about six o’ clock, Ryan. If you’re going to take a shower today, I think you should go do it now. Your father wants to take one today, too, and for that matter, so do I, so, I’d really appreciate it if you would go take your shower now."

"Mmmkay," Ryan muttered, still only half awake.

Norma shook her head in fond exasperation: Ryan could be a little strange sometimes, but he was still her son.

XxXxXxX

Yawning, Ryan made his way down the hall, a path as familiar to him as his own feet, so there wasn’t really a pressing need for him to pay attention to exactly where he was going at the moment. Blinking to try and wake himself up more quickly, Ryan continued down the hall that led to the bathroom, and by the time he had made it to the room itself, he was much more awake than he had been when he had started out.

Pushing the door open, Ryan closed it behind himself and started to strip off his clothes. If anyone had been standing behind him when he took his shirt off, that person would have seen the blistering, tumor-like growths on his back, and if that same person had known about the Guyvers, he would have found the marks on Ryan Crouger’s back very familiar. But there was no one there to see the marks right now, so Ryan continued undressing in peace.

Once he had gotten fully out of his clothes, Ryan opened a drawer on the far right side of the sink that held a large collection of his CDs. Pulling out a freshly-burned copy of Rent, though this one had only the songs that he liked the most. He stuck it into the CD player and turned it up just enough to keep him from falling asleep before he got to the shower.

Once he was inside, it wouldn’t be so bad, since the falling water would keep him awake, if only just enough for him to be able to wash up. He still didn’t know quite why he was so tired all of a sudden, even after he had ended up sleeping for most of the afternoon. It was really weird, but as he yawned again, he made up his mind not to think about it anymore.

It wasn’t like he had any really pressing responsibilities at the moment—any homework he had could be put off till the end of the week, and there was nothing that he had planned for the rest of the day that couldn’t be done another time, preferably when he didn’t feel so goddamned tired. The music was helping some, so he was able to keep himself awake when he was still outside of the shower.

Once he got inside the shower, the splatter of heated water woke him up more quickly than the music had, but like the last time, it was only temporary, and Ryan was soon starting to doze again. Soaked to the skin from the falling water, he began to wash up. Once he was done with that, he washed his hair, then leaned back and enjoyed the hot water splattering all over him. With the way he was feeling at the moment, it would have been really easy to fall asleep in the shower.

He knew that would be a bad idea, so he fought to keep his eyes open and stay awake, shaking the excess water from his hair as he stood back up to let the hot water rinse off the paltry remains of the soap that still clung to him. Turning off the water, Ryan squeezed the remaining water out of his hair, trying to keep awake longer and stepping out of the shower and grabbed his towel.

Drying himself off quickly, Ryan hung his towel back up, turned off the CD player, and headed out the door to his room. Yawning again, he tried to keep his eyes open for the short time it would take him to make it to his own room—he was at least moderately successful with the effort.

Once he was back in his room, Ryan headed instinctively for his bed, all but asleep on his feet and swaying like a drunk as he walked. He didn’t stumble once, but he did come pretty close to doing so. Collapsing on top of his bed, he closed his eyes for a minute, then, before he could get comfortable enough to fall asleep entirely, crawled up onto his bed and slithered up under his covers. With one last, jaw-cracking yawn, he plopped his head down on his pillow and quickly fell asleep.

XxXxXxX

_ Ryan was most acutely aware of the pain in his left hand at first—that and the soreness currently spreading over most of his front. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been one of his better ideas to start playing that game of kick-the-rock with himself. Hauling his body off of the cave floor, though it really felt more like he was peeling himself off the ground, he shook off the rock pile from his arm. _

_ As he pulled the shard out of his hand with his teeth, he noticed the glowing thing stuck in the cave wall. It was kind of interesting, in a what-the-hell-is-that-thing kind of way. Hell, it was even interesting enough to let him ignore the pain in his arms—well, mostly. Getting back to his feet, he walked over to the glowing thing, all the while trying to ignore the blood dripping from his hand. _

_ Having water dripping from his hand was bad enough, but this was warm and sticky, two feelings he really hated when they were combined with each other. He almost had to laugh at himself for thinking that: here he was bleeding from the hand and all he could think about was the fact that he didn’t like the feel of blood on his hand. His mom was right, he was weird. _

_ Still, it wasn’t like he could really do anything about the fact that his hand was bleeding—at least not right now. He’d probably be able to take care of it once he got out of the cave, but for now there was something else to occupy his attention. It wasn’t more important, just more immediate. Poking the outer edges of the thing, he was slightly surprised to find that they were warm and squishy. _

_ It just wasn’t something he’d ever expected to feel while touching something that was imbedded in a freaking cave wall. Moving his hand around the outer edge, he was again surprised to find that his fingers encountered a raised metallic ridge. The metal itself was warm, and that was when he made up his mind that he wasn’t going to be surprised by anything else that he found while he was examining this thing, whatever it turned out to be. _

_ Moving his hand towards the center of the thing, he came to the end of the metal casing and ended up touching the squishy part again, though he’d made up his mind not to be surprised by anything that he found while examining the thing, he was still somewhat surprised by that, and when his searching fingers again encountered a warm, metallic piece, he paused. Feeling around this new protrusion, he discovered that it was round, just like the rest of the thing. That was kind of interesting. Tapping on the metallic half-sphere with his pointer finger, he heard a soft clicking sound. Intrigued, he tried it again—there was that same clicking noise again. _

_ Bored, he pressed down hard on the small metal dealie in the center of the round whatever-it-was. The click was a lot louder that time, but that wasn’t the only difference: the round Whatsit burst into a huge mass of writhing tentacles, long, cold, slimy tendrils that wrapped around him from head to toe. His clothes were soaked through by the cold slime within seconds, and Ryan had a brief moment of annoyance about that. _

_ But that was before the cold, slimy tendrils started squeezing him tighter and tighter. Ryan could feel the round metal dealie nuzzling itself against his forehead, and for a minute Ryan wondered just what was going on with that. Then he started to feel another set of tendrils crawling across his face. The things felt like they were maybe a little thinner than his pinkie finger. _

_ Two of the tendrils shoved themselves into the tear ducts of Ryan’s eyes, and when he opened his mouth to scream, one of the larger tendrils shoved itself down his throat. The smaller tendrils crawled across his face again, and two more of them shoved themselves into his ears; then another pair forced themselves right up his nose. Ryan thought that he fell to the ground after that, but it was kind of hard to tell with him not being able to feel anything at all. _

_ As the slimy Whatsit curled tighter around him, Ryan felt more of the large tendrils crawling across his stomach. Three of them dug into his abs, punching their way through his navel and wrapping around his guts. Ryan was pretty sure he screamed after that, but it was hard to tell, since he was passing out at the time… _


	5. Going off-schedule

Norma Crouger, seeing her son still dozing, smiled indulgently. It was always nice for her to be able to see Ryan when he wasn’t quite awake, with his red hair still mussed up from sleep and that adorable, hazy look in his green eyes. Norma always felt good when she saw him like that, but she also felt a strong maternal urge to protect him, since Ryan always looked so vulnerable when he was sleeping, and there was no way in hell that she was going to let anything hurt her son.

Now, though, it was time to get him up to go to school, and she walked over to his bed. "Ryan," she called softly.

"Iurgmzzzat," Ryan muttered, meaning ‘I hate mornings’.

"Ryan," Norma called again, almost laughing

"Gowway," ‘Go away’.

"I’m not leaving this room until you get up, young man," Norma said, trying to sound stern while holding off laughter.

"Nogginup," ‘Not getting up.

Laughing softly, Norma whipped the covers off of Ryan and got ready to pull him out of bed, but when she saw the sores on Ryan’s back, she stopped cold. Staring in disbelief at the blistering lesions on her son’s back, she pulled up the covers just enough to keep him warm and then touched one. It was hard and leathery and didn’t feel much like human skin at all.

Worried now, she touched the other one and found it had exactly the same hard, unnatural feel as the first. Pulling the covers up all ~~of~~ the way, she hurried out of Ryan’s room. There was no way on Earth that she was going to let her son go off to school when he was so clearly not well. Norma also needed to call the hospital and make an appointment, hoping that Ethan was there, since their old family doctor was very good at what he did. He was also a close friend of the family, and she trusted him implicitly.

XxXxXxX

When Ryan finally returned to the land of the living, he was surprised that he felt so genuinely rested. Normally, his mom would pull him out of bed, and he’d end up getting dressed and ready for school in a sort of semiconscious daze. Now, though, he felt better than he ever had. Even on a weekend, when he could sleep all day if he wanted to, he didn’t feel that good.

Hell, he didn’t even feel the need to stretch and work the kinks out of his muscles, but he did anyway, just because that was what he always did when he first woke up. Glancing over at the clock, just out of morbid curiosity since he was sure he was abysmally late by now, Ryan saw that it was already ten. Normally classes started at eight sharp, hence the need to get out of bed by seven thirty.

Unless today was a weird day, Ryan was sure that he had just missed a great deal of allegedly important class time. Ryan could give a flying crap about that, but he did wonder why his mom hadn’t shown up to drag him out of bed. Not that he was complaining or anything; he was just kind of curious. Leaning back against his sheets and blankets, Ryan saw with some surprise that his mom was coming back into the room.

"Ryan? Good, you’re awake." His mom seemed to be more relieved by that than Ryan really thought she should. It wasn’t as if he’d never taken a shower and then gone to bed before. She moved quickly over to his bed and laid her hand on his forehead. "Well, you don’t have a fever, that’s good. How are you really feeling, though?"

"I feel fine," Ryan said earnestly. "Better than I ever have, in fact." 

As soon as those words were hanging in the air, Ryan felt a slight chill. Maybe he’d just been watching too much Stargate: SG-1, but that sentence always seemed to be a prelude to badness. Sometimes only a small amount, sure, but mostly the badness invoked by those fateful words was badness on an epic scale. Saying them was practically inviting the Irony Gods to smite the person stupid enough to have spoken them. At that thought, though, Ryan had to laugh at himself—he was really getting paranoid in his old age.

It was probably nothing.

"What’s so funny?"

"Me," Ryan said, still chuckling. "I’ve definitely been watching too much Stargate: SG-1. Every time anyone has ever said something like that, it’s either because they’ve been infected by a Goa’uld or something equally horrible."

"You’re right, that generally is the procedure," his mom laughed. "Well, since things like that generally don’t happen in this universe, I think you’re covered."

Ryan started laughing then, and it wasn’t long before his mom had joined in—watching Stargate and its spin-off TV series Stargate: SG-1 was one of his favorite things to do with his mom.

XxXxXxX

Luggnagg de Krumeggnik, holding the progress reports from Chronos Los Angeles, smiled secretively to himself: everything was going just as he and the others had planned. Their stronghold at the Los Angeles branch had not been discovered, and if he, Khan, and Hiyern had anything to say about the matter, it never would be. Moreover, the other Overlords were all too preoccupied with the problem of the Anti Chronos Task Force to be much of a hindrance.

Still, there was the small matter of Imakarum and his son. Imakarum was fanatically loyal to Alkanphel, something that Krumeggnik found rather odd, given the fact that Murakami had seemed to want nothing more than to rip the entire Chronos organization apart with his bare hands. Khan had even talked at one point of perhaps recruiting Murakami to their side, re-processing him into a full Zoalord, and then setting him loose on Chronos. The son would have perhaps been an asset as well, or at the very least been useful as a hostage, but now none of that was possible.

Sighing, Krumeggnik continued walking. He would have to destroy the progress reports that he currently held, since they were sure to give away the plan that their group had worked on for so long. That was, after all, the entire reason that he had volunteered to inspect the Los Angeles branch personally; fortunately for him and the others, Krumeggnik had become rather adept at falsifying Chronos documents. Thinking back to what he’d seen at the Los Angeles branch inevitably brought back thoughts of Commander Gyou.

It was really most unfortunate that the former Regional Commander had died back at Mt. Minakami, since the man’s almost complete lack of subtlety had made him a very good cover for their own clandestine activities. It would be that much more dangerous for Krumeggnik and the others to pursue their own agenda with him gone, and Khan would doubtless be worried about that. Hiyern would of course suggest that they put off their activities until they had gotten hold of the new situation.

Krumeggnik was personally of the opinion that life, especially an eternal one such as that enjoyed by all Zoalords, was for the risking. What possible entertainment could be had from playing things safely, especially when one possessed such powers as theirs? Alkanphel was not, after all, the omniscient and all-powerful god that Balkus and Imakarum liked to paint him as.

Thoughts of Imakarum led almost automatically to thoughts of the younger Mirabilis, Ingriam. Rather fitting, actually, Krumeggnik thought, since the child was basically an appendage of his father. Still, he could perhaps be a useful pawn, provided they were very cautious in how they went about that—even he wasn’t eager to risk the wrath of Mirabilis the elder if the other Zoalord found out that they were threatening his son.

It was an odd thing to think about, given that Imakarum’s son was not yet seven years old—odd, at least until one met and spoke with him. Ingriam had all the habits and mannerisms of a child. And also, the boy still possessed every scrap of the naïve trust that had gotten him kidnapped by the late Commander Gyou in the first place. Krumeggnik often wondered why Mirabilis the elder did not take the initiative and simply purge the boy’s mind of those useless and potentially dangerous attributes.

It was a puzzle, but at the moment not one that Krumeggnik was particularly interested in solving. He had other things to think about, not just falsifying the reports from the Los Angeles branch; he also had to make certain that his own branch, Chronos Africa, was functioning with just enough efficiency to keep the other Zoalords off his back. Khan and Hiyern were of course doing the same.


	6. In Sickness

Ryan sat in the doctor’s office, shirt off, waiting for Dr. Nathaniel to arrive. The two weird growths on his back, between and just slightly above his shoulder blades, had worried his mom enough that she had taken a day off from work, and pulled him out of school for the day. Ryan thought it was just some rash, but he was still happy to have a day out of school.

Finally, the doctor made his appearance.

"So, Mr. Crouger, what seems to be the problem today?"

"There are these two _things_ that grew on my back. Mom noticed them this morning," Ryan said. "Could you just tell her that this is just some rash that’s going to go away?" Ryan smirked. "Or maybe you could tell her that it’s an infectious rash that’ll take about five weeks to clear up."

Dr. Nathaniel laughed. "You’d _like_ me to do that, wouldn’t you, Ryan?" He laughed again. "All right, turn around you little wiseguy. Let me see these _things_ you speak of so eloquently."

Ryan turned around, displaying his back to Dr. Nathaniel, who, on his part, nearly choked on his own tongue. _This isn’t any rash!_ Touching one of the marks on Ryan’s back, Dr. Nathaniel found that he knew _exactly_ what he was looking at. It was impossible, but there it was, sitting right in front of his eyes.

_ I thought all the Guyvers had already been activated!  _ But Dr. Nathaniel knew that what he was staring at were unmistakably the marks that a Guyver unit left on its host. _Boost-stimulus tissue—that’s what the higher-ups call it. It’s what connects the Guyver to its host. Using the host’s brainwaves, the Guyver stays in contact. That’s what I was told._

Staring at his patient’s back, Dr. Nathaniel wondered just what to tell Ryan. His first loyalty had to be to Chronos, but there was also the matter of Ryan Crouger and his family being some of his best friends. He had been Ryan’s doctor ever since the boy had been a baby, having helped to deliver Ryan when he had been born.

Dr. Nathaniel could still remember the boy’s bright green eyes, opening suddenly and trying to take in everything at once. He didn’t usually take a personal interest in his patients, but he and Norman Crouger – Ryan’s father – had gone to medical school together. Norman had even invited him over to Ryan’s coming-home party, and he’d stayed close to the family ever since.

All of this was running through his mind as Dr. Ethan Nathaniel stared down at the boost-stimulus tissue on Ryan’s back. At last, taking a deep breath, he realized just what he had to do.

"I’ll be back in just a few minutes; stay here," Dr. Nathaniel said, making sure that his voice sounded normal enough not to arouse any suspicion on the part of his patient. Ryan trusted him, but there were limits to such things.

"Whatever you say, doc."

Looking back one last time and wanting to somehow ask for Ryan’s forgiveness for what he was about to do and knowing that he couldn’t, Dr. Ethan Nathaniel walked out of his examination room to find a phone and call Chronos—and find a fast-acting sedative.

Ryan, sitting alone in the examination room with his shirt still off, was of course completely unaware of the nature of his doctor’s absence. He was just beginning to get bored when Dr. Nathaniel came walking back into the office, carrying a syringe filled with some kind of fluid.

"Are you sure I need a shot, doc? I mean, it’s probably just going to clear up if I put some lotion on it."

"Ryan, you’re just going to have to trust me, okay?"

"You’re the doc, doc," Ryan smirked. "Still, are you sure about this?"

Dr. Nathaniel didn’t answer; instead he stuck the point of the syringe into the vein that ran through Ryan’s right wrist. Hitting the plunger, Dr. Nathaniel watched as the powerful sedative drug was released into Ryan’s bloodstream. Ryan’s eyes started to flutter as the drug took effect, and Dr. Nathaniel caught the red-haired boy just before he would have fallen back onto the medical table. Instead, he slowly, gently lowered Ryan down to rest on the table—it was the only thing he could do for the boy, after all.

Once he was sure that Ryan was fully under the effects of the sedative, Dr. Nathaniel opened the door and strode out into the hall.

"He’s all ready for you," the doctor told the two Chronos operatives that had been waiting outside for just that kind of news.

"Good. We’ll take it from here. Thanks for calling this one in, doctor." The men both nodded respectfully to him before they filed into the room he had just left.

The two men came out just a few minutes later, carrying the limp body of Ryan Crouger. Thinking for a moment, Dr. Nathaniel decided to follow them. The two Chronos operatives didn’t seem to think much of his decision at first, simply taking it for granted that he would soon be leaving them to go tend to his other duties. When Dr. Nathaniel continued to shadow them beyond what they considered to be a reasonable distance, they turned to confront him.

"Don’t you have somewhere else to be, doctor?" the leader asked.

"The welfare of my patient is my highest concern, and that boy is currently still my patient," Dr. Nathaniel answered, hoping that was convincing enough.

Apparently it was, since the two Chronos personnel turned away without saying another word; it was good to know that he could still tell lies that were convincing enough to fool Zoanoids when he needed to ~~do so~~. Following the two of them out into a deserted corridor, Dr. Nathaniel watched as, without a word or a look at each other, they entered another empty hospital room, set Ryan down on the examination table, and began looking over him.

He would have to find something to say to the boy’s father—some way to convince him not to worry over the safety of his son. That would be a challenge, especially when it inevitably came time to try to convince Ryan’s mother that he was safe and that she shouldn’t worry about him. Convincing Norma Crouger not to worry about her son was about as easy as holding the Pacific Ocean in a burlap bag.

There was also the matter of her infamous temper, something that Ryan had obviously inherited from her. It was easier for Dr. Nathaniel to deal with hot-tempered people, since he could just wait for them to calm down before he talked to them, but Ryan and Norma Crouger were two of the calmest people that Dr. Nathaniel had ever met—even in spite of Ryan’s sarcastic wit—until someone somehow managed to get them really angry, and then you were in serious trouble.

Norma’s pale greenish eyes could turn as icy as a frozen lake when she was angry enough, and Ryan’s had that same tendency. It would not be pleasant to try and face the woman in that state, but maybe if he met with and convinced Norman first, Norman would be able to convince his wife and hence spare Nathaniel the trouble.

He saw that the two Zoanoids were now loading Ryan onto a gurney, so he stepped out of their way and let them do their job. That was in fact just what he was doing now: his job. It was his duty to report anything of importance to his employers at Chronos, from humans that were ideal candidates to be processed into Zoanoids and Hyper Zoanoids, to a Guyver who had just appeared in his examination room, even if that Guyver’s host also happened to be the son of his oldest and best friend. His first loyalty was to Chronos; that was just the way things had to be.


	7. And in Secret

As Gregole loaded the red-haired kid who was the newest Guyver onto a gurney and strapped him down, he decided to add a bit of extra insurance against the Guyver’s escape. The kid looked like he was completely out of it, but in Gregole’s experience, one could never really trust a Guyver. Removing two pairs of handcuffs from his satchel, he quickly slapped them onto the kid’s wrists and snapped the other halves closed around the railings of the gurney. It probably wouldn’t do shit if the kid woke up while they were transporting him, but it did do something for Gregole’s peace of mind.

Looking up, he saw that his fellow Zoanoid, a Ramochis, was now carrying a blanket. Before Gregole could even ask what it was for, the Ramochis had draped it over the kid and was smoothing it out over his arms and legs. The blanket covered the handcuffs nicely, making it obvious just why the Ramochis had gotten it in the first place.

"Nice idea, Ram," Gregole nodded.

"Thanks Greg," the Ramochis said.

With that, both Zoanoids left the exam room. They were dressed like a pair of hospital orderlies for this mission, so they didn’t look that much out of place in there. Catching sight of another group of Zoanoids—three Vamore this time—Gregole and the Ramochis strode calmly over to their fellows.

"Is that the kid? He doesn’t look like much," the first Vamore said.

"Yeah, this is him," Gregole assured him. "Besides, you got the same reports about that Fukamachi kid that the rest of us did. You can’t say _he_ looks much better than this one."

"Yeah, I guess you have a point there, Greg."

With that acknowledgment, the five Zoanoids continued to walk in silence. This hospital had been staffed with a few of the lower-ranked processing techs, but no one had ever really suspected that something as important as a new Guyver would ever be reported by this lower-rung place. One thing was for sure, though: old man Nathaniel was in for a serious promotion after calling this one in.

This, as far as the five Zoanoids were concerned, was a very good thing, since old man Nathaniel at least treated the Standard Zoanoids like they were something other than expendable cannon-fodder. It would be nice to have someone who halfway cared about them working in the processing division with the other techs. There were a few people curious enough to ask about the kid they were transporting, but just telling them how sick he was deterred all of those people.

That was another advantage to working in a hospital: any of the longer disappearances could be explained away as just a more difficult case. And if there were a few mishaps during the processing, altering medical records was easy for Chronos.

It wasn’t all that easy for Gregole to keep himself from smirking at all the humans who were walking past, going about their practically meaningless lives. Chronos would change all of that, of course, giving the humans something to _really_ live for, beyond all the small and petty things that caused so much trouble for everyone. Looking down again at the kid who was the newest Guyver, Gregole found himself wondering just what was going to happen to him.

Chronos didn’t like Guyvers as a general rule, so that brought up the question of just what they were going to do with the kid once they had him. Gregole didn’t like the Guyvers much either, but he had really only heard rumors about them, and besides all of that, the kid had just become a Guyver. It wasn’t really fair for Gregole to judge him based on the stuff two other guys had been doing.

Besides, this Guyver was going to end up working for Chronos anyway, so that was one more reason not to hate him. _And_ _he kinda looks like my kid brother,_ Gregole chuckled to himself. It was hard to take anyone as a serious threat when they looked like someone you had seen dragging a teddy bear all over the house or running around in diapers. Of course, his kid brother was a lot younger than this kid was.

They were almost at the parking lot, Gregole noticed, so he got a better grip on the side of the gurney that he was holding. Two of the Vamore folded up the wheels of the gurney, and the other three quickly and easily took the weight of the gurney. There was a transport truck waiting for them, parked unobtrusively in the middle of the lot and made up to look like an ambulance. Gregole had to smirk at that, since it was sure to get them to their destination a hell of a lot faster than a normal truck.

There was no conversation between the five Zoanoids as they made their way to the "ambulance" with their burden. The kid was starting to move a bit, but not really enough that any of them were concerned about it. After all, there was no way that the kid was going to wake up before they got to where they were going. Now that they were all standing in the disguised Chronos transport, the two doctors who had been waiting inside the truck stepped forward.

"Thank you for getting him this far; we can take it from here."

And with that, the two docs started pulling the gurney into the truck. Gregole and one of the Vamore helped them to hoist the gurney into the truck, and then all of the Zoanoids turned and walked back into the hospital.

XxXxXxX

Dr. Travis Alvers, another one of the lower-level processing technicians that worked for Chronos, stared down at the red-haired boy who had somehow come into the possession of a Guyver Unit. Since the two Guyvers from Japan had disappeared during the raid on the base at Mt. Minakami, Chronos had been sure that there would be no others to oppose them. Then this boy had showed up.

Dr. Alvers’ coworker, Dr. Benson, picked up one of the tanks of knockout gas that had been prepared for the boy’s transportation and, lifting his head, fixed the breathing mask over the lower half of his face. Dr. Alvers heard a soft hiss as the gas was turned on and saw the boy give a mild sort of twitch as he presumably struggled to regain consciousness. It was a futile gesture, of course.

This gas had been specially mixed by Dr. Balkus to keep the boy unconscious without killing him, and there was no way that the boy would ever be able to rouse himself before they all had reached Chronos. Under the blanket that had been draped over the body, Dr. Alvers caught sight of the handcuffs that one of the Zoanoids had affixed to both of his wrists and wondered just which one of them had done that.

It was a noble gesture, but it would probably have been futile if the boy had somehow managed to fight off the sedative and wake up.

"What do the higher-ups want us to do with him?" Dr. Benson asked, mildly curious.

"They want us to get him to the base in Denver. Beyond that I don’t know," Dr. Alvers said, loading the second tank of knockout gas onto the shelf within easy reach.

The rest of the drive was in silence as the two doctors continued to watch over their unconscious charge. Once their truck had parked, the two doctors and one Guyver were escorted into the base at Chronos Denver. The Zoanoids at this base were the standard models for this part of the world, unlike those at some of the other bases who were imported from the other branches of Chronos.

A pair of Donlun helped to remove the gurney from the back of the truck. As the two humans and two Zoanoids wheeled the gurney out into the parking lot and from there into the Chronos Denver building, they didn’t say a word. What was there to say, really?


	8. Mourning and Exultation

It was raining again, but in their current shapes, neither Bio-freezer nor Felinos felt the cold drops of water pelting them mercilessly. They stood, each holding a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses, in front of the row of graves in the back of the house where they were staying. It was the only real place where they could be safe, so despite all of the bad memories that it now held, the two Lost Numbers continued to stay.

Felinos, by silent consensus, was the first to start laying out the flowers that he had brought, his large, viciously clawed hands surprisingly gentle as he went about his task. Once Felinos was done, Bio-freezer stepped forward as Felinos stepped back. Each grave now had two roses resting on it. Looking over all of the elegantly carved wooden grave markers, the eyes of the two Lost Units rested almost instinctively on the one that was different from all of the others.

What made that particular marker stand out so clearly was the fact that while all of the others were carved with elegant precision, that one had been written on with a black permanent marker. It wasn’t that the two Lost Number Zoanoids didn’t care about their lost comrade; it was just that neither of them possessed even a fraction of her woodcarving skill. Looking over Danielle Sorenson’s grave marker, Bio-freezer and Felinos couldn’t help but wish that she had survived her own Lost Unit processing, as well.

"They didn’t deserve this," Felinos muttered sadly, his catlike eyes downcast.

"Yeah. But then, neither did we," Bio-freezer muttered.

Both Lost Units, standing next to one another in the pouring rain, sighed as they continued to stare at the graves that held the remains of their friends, neither at all bothered by the rain. Felinos didn’t feel the cold, and the low temperature was almost comfortable for Bio-freezer.

"So what do we do now?" Felinos asked, just to fill the silence.

"We do what the others would have wanted us to do: we fight Chronos."

"That’s what I thought you were going to say," Felinos muttered, grinning and displaying his mouthful of slashing, inch-long teeth.

The two Lost Units headed back into the house once they had finished paying their respects.

XxXxXxX

Back at Chronos, in one of the more well appointed rooms within the sprawling underground area of the Dead Sea Plant, one of the only real survivors of the Mt. Minakami disaster was resting; the doctors and other scientists who had survived the cataclysm had all been killed one way or another after the interrogation at Cloud Tower. Hearing the door to his room being pushed open, the black-haired man lying on the room’s only bed turned to look towards it, wondering who had come to visit him.

"How are you feeling this morning, Zektor?" an unassuming-looking woman asked as she walked into his room; Zektor noticed that she was carrying a clipboard.

"My bandages itch, my butt hurts, and I’m bored," the former leader of the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five grumbled.

"I can see how that would be a problem for someone like you," she commiserated, and Zektor saw that she was looking at the pitiful stump of his left leg.

"What type are you?" Zektor asked sharply, not wanting to deal with pity from a human if he could help it.

"Sharru," the woman—or rather, the female Zoanoid—answered said calmly.

"You’re a Sharru?" Zektor asked, looking at the woman more closely. He noticed that she had short black hair, though a little tuft of silver was visible at the front. "I’ve worked with your type a few times," Zektor said appreciatively. "Even faster than Zancrus, and, as a bonus, your type actually has _hands_ ," he snickered, and Sharru, seeing the humor, laughed herself. "So, did you just come in to check up on the invalid, or was there something you wanted?"

"Dr. Balkus wanted me to update you on the status of your request," Sharru said as she walked over to Zektor’s bed and presented him with the clipboard.

"I see the doc took my request for extra weaponry seriously." Zektor chuckled again as he looked over all the notations that Dr. Balkus had made on the paper that was attached to the clipboard. "I’m going to be sure to be able to do some serious damage to that bastard Zoanoid-eater with these. I just hope he doesn’t manage to get the drop on me again."

"That’s one of the things that Dr. Balkus wanted me to tell you about," Sharru said. "He’s provided you with a form of defense against the Aptom virus."

" _Please_ tell me you’re not just pulling my leg," Zektor said, an eager grin spreading across his face.

"No; I’m just reporting what Dr. Balkus told me."

"Well, if the doc says it, then I know I can count on it. Come on—let’s go." Zektor gestured for Sharru to give him his crutch. "I want to thank him personally."

Nodding, Sharru stepped over to the table by Zektor’s bed and plucked the Hyper Zoanoid’s crutches from their resting place. Handing them to the former leader of the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five, Sharru watched as he made an effort to get back to his feet, almost tempted to offer him some help, but she clearly remembered how proud the old Hypers were. Zektor probably wouldn’t _want_ her help in any case.

Once he was back on his feet, Sharru walked back to the door and opened it for both of them, waiting until Zektor had made it out the door before she turned and followed him. Closing the door once she had made it out of Zektor’s room, Sharru caught up to the injured Hyper Zoanoid and wordlessly accompanied him to Dr. Balkus’ office. There had been something else that Dr. Balkus had wanted her to report to Zektor—Sharru was almost certain of it, but at the moment was unable to recall just what that extra piece of information had been. And Zektor’s happiness had an infectious quality about it. Watching him practically skipping down the corridor with that big cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face, Sharru forgot all about the fact that she had been ordered to report another fact to Zektor along with the modifications that Dr. Balkus wanted to make to his body.


	9. Teacher, Creator and Student

Looking back at the computer display—the one that displayed the basic information on his Zoanoid model—Kenji almost started fidgeting. The waiting had always been kind of hard for him, but he liked to think that he’d learned at least some patience. Dr. Balkus had been showing him how to refine the design of his Alvix Zoanoid, but then he’d left, and Kenji didn’t know why, though he was doing well on his own.

The computer was making a strange humming sound, but when he’d tried to ask one of the technicians about the noise, no one else had seemed to hear it. So Kenji had tried to ignore it as best he could, but it was still bothersome. Looking up as the sense of another Zoalord nearby washed over him, Kenji saw that Fried’rich van Purg’stall was walking towards him.

"Oh, hi Fried’rich!" Kenji called happily.

"Hello, little one," Fried’rich said, smiling. "Hamilcal told me that you were attempting to design a Zoanoid of your own?"

"Yeah." Kenji nodded happily. "I’m going to surprise dad with it. Do you think he’ll like it?"

"I am certain that Lord Imakarum will be very satisfied with your design, little one. What are you going to call your Zoanoid?"

"Alvix."

"Alvix," Fried’rich repeated, sounding like he was thinking about something. "That is an interesting designation. Did you think of it on your own?"

"Yeah, I thought of it all by myself," Kenji said, looking very happy with himself.

"Well done then, little one." Putting his hand on Kenji’s shoulder, Fried’rich looked at the Zoanoid design displayed on the screen. "It seems to be a very sound design that you have created."

"You really think so?" Kenji asked eagerly.

"Yes, child. I think it could even be a counterpart to Gregole and Ramochis in the Japanese Sector."

"Wow," Kenji said with a smile. "You really think that my design could become that widely used?"

Fried’rich smiled as he nodded. "It is a rather basic design, even as Ramochis and Gregole are, so it stands to reason that this Alvix of yours will have a comparable processing success rate."

Looking back at his Zoanoid design, Kenji felt Fried’rich pat him on the shoulder, but before the other Zoalord could leave, Kenji turned to him.

"Do you think you could maybe stay with me, Fried’rich? I know you probably have a lot of other things to do, but do you think you could take a little time off? I don’t want to be alone," Kenji admitted.

Fried’rich considered the child sitting before him, for that was what Lord Imakarum’s son truly was: a child. In spite of the fact that Imakarum’s son appeared to be the same age as his father, it was at moments like this that Fried’rich could truly appreciate what Ingriam Mirabilis was going through. Placing his hand on Ingriam’s left shoulder, Fried’rich mentally pulled one of the many unoccupied chairs over to them.

From the way he smiled, the child seemed to be content with that.

XxXxXxX

Grumbling as he stalked down the hallway and occasionally swearing violently at the few Standard Zoanoids that didn’t get out of his way fast enough, Zektor made his way back to his room. He was pissed, primarily at old man Balkus for not personally telling him about the side effects that his little ‘procedure’ had, although he did have a fair amount of ill feeling for Sharru, since she had evidently been told to tell him that in the first goddamn place.

Smacking a particularly slow-moving Standard Zoanoid upside the head with the crutch gripped in his right hand, Zektor kept moving after he’d managed to regain his equilibrium. When he finally made it back to his room, Zektor threw the door open and stalked inside, slamming it shut behind him. He stalked over to his bed, threw himself down on it, and roughly flung away his crutches.

_ Great. Just great. Of all the stupid non-choices I could have been stuck with, this has to be the worst of them. Either I just let it all go and let that bastard Zoanoid-eater get away with turning all of my friends into his own personal buffet, or I…  _ In the end though, Zektor couldn’t even bring himself to finish the thought. As he was, Zektor was one of the most powerful – and therefore respected – Hyper Zoanoids in the entire Chronos organization.

The problem was that Neo-Zektor, which was what old man Balkus was going to name him once he’d gone through reprocessing, was going to be a Lost Unit, and everyone knew that Lost Units were the worst, most unreliable kinds of Zoanoid that existed. Aptom was a Lost Unit, and even a Standard Zoanoid could see just how untrustworthy _that_ rat-bastard was. So that was the thing: Zektor could stay as he was, a Hyper Zoanoid, and just forget about what that… that _thing_ had done to his friends, or he could go through the procedure and end up just like him.

Sure, it would be the ultimate form of irony to see Aptom getting his ass kicked by another Lost Unit, and getting reprocessed was really his best – if not his only – chance of getting his revenge on Aptom. Still, there were principles to think about here: Lost Units, while some of them were at least marginally useful, were mostly a bunch of stupid, one-off freaks. Slumping back down on his bed, Zektor wondered just what one of the other guys would do in this situation.

If he’d been the one to be absorbed instead of Elegen, would that have made any difference? Would Elegen have been willing to go through with a procedure that, while it would give him the sheer, overwhelming power that would be needed to get his revenge, would also end up turning him into something not that far removed from the thing he wanted revenge against? Zektor shuddered briefly as he remembered something else that Dr. Balkus had told him.

It’d been an offhand comment, as if the doctor had been too preoccupied with something else that he’d been preparing for to spare more than a few minutes’ thought for what Zektor was going through. That hadn’t felt so good. The fact that Sharru had been there with him, lending him her support had made him feel a bit better about what he was going to do, but that still didn’t change the fact that he would die if he went through with the procedure.

The risk of dying in combat was one that Zektor faced every time he went out on a mission, but it was something entirely different when it was your own biology that was going to do you in. Then it wasn’t a matter of luck or skill or who wanted to survive more; it was waiting until your cells couldn’t handle any more stress and just stopped working. Turning to lay on his right side, facing away from the door, Zektor continued to think about the choice that he’d been given.

XxXxXxX

For a minute, the kid had looked as if he’d been about to wake up, so Galma had injected him with another dose of sodium pentathol. The kid had settled back down quickly after that, leaving Galma and his fellow Galma to push the gurney into the waiting transport plane. For a minute, the lead Galma wondered just what was going to be done with the kid, but all Lord Caerleon had said was that he was important to Chronos, and Galma knew that he wouldn’t be getting any other answers.

Still, it was kind of interesting to think about why this kid was being taken to the ultra top-secret Dead Sea Plant. Then, deciding that he wasn’t going to spend any more time thinking about a question that he was probably never going to get an answer to, Galma pushed the kid’s gurney into the plane. There were techs who could take care of the kid in there, and Galma was more than ready to write him completely out of his life.

XxXxXxX

Once the doors to the hold had closed, the Ramochis who had been pulling the gurney with the red-haired kid on it moved behind and started pushing. The kid wasn’t going anywhere, what with all the tranquilizers he’d been given when he’d been inside Chronos Briton, and the extra dose that one of the Galma had given him had clinched it in Ramochis’ mind. Of course, that didn’t mean that he was going to remove the restraints.

The red-haired kid had been switched over to a different bed sometime during his mock-examination in Chronos Briton. Or, at least that was what Ramochis had been told by one of the Galma as they had shoved the bed into the plane. Ramochis hadn’t really cared to know just where the restraints had been put on, just so long as they worked, which, since the kid was so heavily sedated, they had a very good chance of doing.

Pushing him into a medical isolation tent, Ramochis locked the bed he was on into the heavy restraints that had been bolted into the wall and floor—the restraints would keep it from sliding around in the plane if they happened to hit any turbulence. Zipping the tent shut behind him as he stepped out, Ramochis turned on one of the gas tanks; he could see the gas flowing out of the vents set into the walls.

The kid would be out for the entire trip to the Dead Sea Plant, so there wasn’t any real need to stand there and watch over him like some kind of glorified babysitter. Happy with the prospect of getting to take some time off—at least until he and the others made it to the Dead Sea Plant—Ramochis headed into the front area of the plane, just behind the cabin.

There was a sort of rudimentary eating area there, nothing more than a table and a pair of chairs bolted to the wall and floor with a few supply cabinets to get food out of, but it was enough for Ramochis to have at least one or two meals. Maybe not the best of meals, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. Opening the nearest cabinet, he found an ample supply of protein bars, beef jerky, and bottled water. Picking up six packs of jerky and three bottles of water, he settled himself at the table and ate. Once he was finished with his meal, Ramochis sat back in the chair and just sort of dozed.

It was a rare opportunity for a Standard Zoanoid like him to have the opportunity to just sit and not think about anything, to just let his mind wander on a boring detail where other people did almost all of the work, and he was just backup muscle if something went wrong. Ramochis remembered, with no small amount of humor, that he’d almost literally had to beat off three Razell, two Gregole, and a fellow Ramochis to get this assignment.

Folding his arms, Ramochis lay his head on them, satisfied with the fact that the red-haired mystery kid wasn’t going to go anywhere.


	10. Live Shipments

As he had watched the child going about his work, Fried’rich had come to appreciate Ingriam’s diligence: the young Zoalord had been working almost without pause, and on the few occasions that he’d stopped for a moment, it was only to refresh himself with a drink of water or a stretch. Fried’rich could understand the need to do such things, since he had done the same thing almost as many times.

"There; all finished," Ingriam said, leaning back in his chair with a particularly satisfied expression.

"Well done then, Ingriam." 

Fried’rich looked over the proposed design for the Alvix model Zoanoid. It was a basic design, true, but as Ingriam was still only a child, Fried’rich did not expect too much of him—that he had even wanted to design a Zoanoid at the onset spoke well of his dedication to Chronos’ glorious cause.

The sense of another Zoalord’s presence washed over him at that moment, and Fried’rich saw Ingriam’s head lift up suddenly. Realizing just who he was sensing, Fried’rich was about to greet his fellow Zoalord when he saw Ingriam’s hands darting across the computer console, though he did not _want_ Imakarum to see what he had accomplished.

Fried’rich found that in and of itself to be rather odd, since he had expected Ingriam would want his father to see the work that he had done immediately. The boy had always seemed to live for Imakarum’s praise.

"Hi Dad!" Ingriam called happily.

_ -What are you doing, little one?-  _ Fried’rich asked. _-You have your chance to show him now.-_

_ -I… I just want to keep it a secret for a little while longer. You know; to make sure it works. Dad always says that new Zoanoids need a lot of testing before they get done.- _

Seeing the logic in his desire to present Imakarum with a fully realized Zoanoid model, rather than simply a design for one, Fried’rich relented.

"Hello, Kenji-chan. I hope you weren’t bored while you were here."

"No, I wasn’t. I kind of like it here, Dad—it’s nice."

Imakarum chuckled softly, gently brushing the top of Ingriam’s head with his fingertips. "I’m sure it is, Kenji-chan. Now, why don’t we let Lord Fried’rich go, and then you and I can go have lunch?"

"I’d like that," Ingriam said, smiling like the child he was.

_ -Lord Fried’rich, was I interrupting anything?- _

_ -No, Imakarum. I was merely accompanying your son while he was performing some research.- _

_ -What kind of things was he researching?-  _ Imakarum asked as he turned Ingriam around and began to lead the boy out of Cloud Tower’s development division.

_ -He was researching Zoanoid models,-  _ Fried’rich said, contenting himself with a half-truth. _–The boy seems very eager to learn; perhaps there might be some way that you could help him.-_

_ -Thank you, Lord Fried’rich. I will keep that in mind.- _

XxXxXxX

As he led Kenji out of Cloud Tower’s Zoanoid Development division, an arm around his son’s broad shoulders, Imakarum considered what Lord Fried’rich had said. If Kenji had indeed expressed an interest in the Zoanoid models that the Japan Section was creating, perhaps he would be of use in designing new Zoanoid models. And maybe once Kenji had his own duties within Chronos, the other Zoalords wouldn’t look down on him quite so much.

Still, there was time to discuss such arrangements at a later date. Right now, though, Imakarum simply wanted to have quiet meal with his son. As Kenji leaned against his left shoulder, Imakarum had a moment to be thankful for the fact that he was not currently wearing his uniform—the shoulder-guards in particular, since while they were very impressive in their way, they would have been particularly uncomfortable for Kenji in his current position.

As the pair of them made their way down into the cafeteria of Cloud Tower, Imakarum wrapped his arm around his son’s waist and felt Kenji lean further into his embrace. These displays of dependence, along with the fact that Kenji was basically a mere Proto-Zoalord that had been altered mildly, were the main factors in Imakarum’s decision to find a safe job for Kenji within Chronos itself.

However, with the potential threat of the Fourth Guyver, Imakarum knew that Kenji could not truly be safe even within the walls of Chronos, and after the incident with Aptom, Imakarum had wanted nothing more than that—at least for those times when he was unable to stay with his son. Kenji was still very weak when compared to the other members of the Council and had yet to learn how to control Zoanoids without fully immersing himself in their minds. That was a problem, since it left him completely helpless and disoriented when he pulled out. It was so much worse if they died, of course, but Imakarum shuddered, forcibly cutting off that line of thought before he could start to remember.

"Is something wrong, Dad?"

"No, Kenji-chan," Imakarum said, gently stroking Kenji’s neck with the fingers of his right hand. "I’m fine. You haven’t told me what you want for lunch yet, you know."

"I’m still thinking about that, Dad."

Patting Kenji’s head, Imakarum continued to lead his son down to Cloud Tower’s main eating area. A few of the Zoanoids they encountered on their way there stopped to greet Imakarum with the expected deference. Imakarum acknowledged them with a single nod of his head—the Zoanoids might have been his underlings, but that was no reason to overlook politeness.

XxXxXxX

The plane was just starting to land, and Cadastal, Myumelzee, and Noskov – along with a fairly large contingent of Standard Zoanoids, but none of the Hypers paid them much attention – were waiting out at the landing strip to welcome it. All three Hyper Zoanoids had been extremely surprised when the orders from above had come in—they’d first been told that all of the Guyvers had been dealt with, in one way or another. Therefore, the news that another one had been found hadn’t gone over well.

The fact that this one was unconscious and being brought in for study by none other than Dr. Balkus himself did kind of reassure them, though.

"It’s coming in now," Cadastal said calmly.

"Don’t you mean ‘ze plane! Ze plane!’?" Myumelzee asked, almost-innocently, but Cadastal didn’t buy the act. "What the hell was that for?!" Myumelzee demanded a moment later, rubbing the back of his head where he’d been slapped.

"If I hear one more short joke out of either of you Bozo Brothers, you’re going to get worse than a slap to the head!"

Noskov, Myumelzee’s counterpart, turned and glared at Cadastal. "Well, _one_ of us hasn’t managed to remove that flagpole from his ass yet, I see."

Not standing close to Noskov as he was to Myumelzee, Cadastal had to content himself with a ringing glare in the other Hyper Zoanoid’s direction. Cadastal might have been a full two inches shorter than any Hyper Zoanoid since Zancrus, but he didn’t think that that was any reason for the other Hypers to keep busting his ass about it, since he was at least reasonably sure that Zancrus – even though he was just as short as Cadastal, and pretty scrawny besides – had ever had to deal with this kind of shit.

Then again, that guy had been a member of Dr. Balkus’ vaunted Team Five, so the other Hypers had to know they’d be dealing with his four teammates if they so much as looked cross-eyed at ol’ Zancrus. But looking back at the descending plane, Cadastal saw that it was just about to land, and once it had, Cadastal, Noskov, and Myumelzee marched quickly up to the waiting aircraft.

As the ramp lowered and the single Standard Zoanoid that had been stationed aboard the plane – probably to keep an eye on the Guyver kid – walked out, Cadastal and his fellow Hyper Zoanoids went right out to meet him. From the way he was built, Cadastal was sure that the guy was a Ramochis.

"Nice to see you guys got out here so fast," the Ramochis said, grinning and nodding at the three Hypers.

"That the kid?" Noskov asked.

Cadastal, meanwhile, had to resist a strong urge to smack his fellow Hyper Zoanoid upside the head. How damn obvious was the answer to that question? Since when did Zoanoid or Hyper Zoanoid candidates come to them strapped to hospital gurneys?

"Yeah, this is the kid right here," Ramochis said, sounding more patient than Cadastal thought he had a right to be.

"We’ll take care of it from here; leave him to us. You go off and get debriefed," Myumelzee said.

Cadastal, grunting his agreement, turned and followed his fellow Hyper Zoanoids into the Dead Sea plant.


	11. Man of a Thousand Faces

Dr. Balkus, checking once again to be certain that he possessed the required tools, restraints, and chemicals to facilitate the examination and eventual reconditioning of the Fifth Guyver, cast his telepathic powers out to monitor the progress of the three Hyper Zoanoids that had retrieved him. The Fifth Guyver would be in his hands momentarily.

XxXxX

Sean had gone to the gym, pleading boredom and citing the fact that Cori would still be in the meeting to take notes for him on the new, stronger breeds of Zoanoid that the ACTF had been facing lately. Sean knew that it was important for them to keep up on the developments at Chronos, and that the only way he and the other members of the "Monster Squad" could do that was to listen to the reports given by the Espionage Division, but that didn’t stop the meetings from being boring.

And then there was the matter of that strange feeling that had came over him for a minute—the feeling that something had just happened, like someone far away had called to him or something. Now that he’d had a chance to clear his head, he thought he’d just been under a little too much stress, since there was no other reason for him to be hearing things the way he had been.

As he worked himself up to a decent sweat, Sean though back to that Zoanoid that he’d tangled with about two and a half months ago. The thing had bragged about being a hyper and had come closer than any Zoanoid – even Crane as a Guyver-Zoanoid – had to killing him. The Zoanoid had called itself Panadyne and had been armed with some kind of liquid that shot out from huge, twisted nozzles that stuck out of both of its shoulders—liquids that would explode instantly once they mixed—not to mention the two long, bony whips that grew out of Panadyne’s back. Sean still remembered the sight of Sergeant Betty Lindson, one of the old hands of the Armored Division, with the front of her armor blown open and the spiked tip of Panadyne’s bony whip sticking out of her throat.

Up till that day, Sean had never actually _seen_ someone get killed by a Zoanoid. He’d seen someone die after becoming a Zoanoid, but that had been a long time ago, and he didn’t really remember much about that. Even the soldiers who fought for the ACTF hadn’t had all that much trouble with the Zoanoids they’d fought up till then. Of course if Panadyne had been telling the truth, that was because they’d never had to face Hyper Zoanoids before.

Sean was hoping that Panadyne was just bragging, but the fact that the ACTF had started taking more losses lately seemed to argue that he wasn’t doing any such thing. Sean shuddered, remembering the red and blue Zoanoids who’d attacked them only two weeks ago—the ones who’d used those sound attacks. Two more people had been killed then: Sergeant Tara Weston and Lieutenant Arnold Berenson of the Mobile Division.

Sean hadn’t known them very well, but he’d still mourned their loss at the funeral.

Now, with the Tech Division working on a new, upgraded version of their powered armor known as the Beta, Sean was hoping that the new designs would be tough enough to stand up to Chronos’ Hyper Zoanoids.

XxXxX

Ryan, still groggy from the shot back in the doctor’s office, slowly rolled over and opened his eyes. The room looked like a basic doctor’s office, but Ryan wasn’t really lucid enough to tell what was what just then. When the door opened and someone walked in, Ryan struggled to sit up and see who it was, and the orderly, or whoever the frack it was coming into his room, obviously saw what he was trying to do.

"Not sleeping in anymore, I see. How are you feeling?" the man asked, as he hurried over to Ryan’s bed and put his hand on the boy’s forehead.

"Luggshi," Ryan mumbled, meaning ‘like shit’.

"I’ll take that as ‘not very good’," the male attendant said, walking up to the bed where Ryan lay and shining a penlight into his eyes. "Well, your reactions to light are fine," he observed, then snapped his fingers next to Ryan’s right ear a few times. Annoyed, Ryan swatted at him. "Well, I think I can safely say that your hearing hasn’t been affected," the nursing attendant said, smiling calmly.

"I really hate you," Ryan muttered, still not quite coherent.

"That’s what all ornery patients say," the nursing attendant said, laughing. "I guess I’d better go tell Balkus that you’re starting to come around. I guess I’ll also have to tell him that there haven’t been any adverse affects. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that."

"Bastard," Ryan muttered at the nurse’s retreating back as he slumped back into the bed and proceeded to fall asleep.

XxXxX

Felinos’ long ears twitched, just managing to catch the sound of soft footsteps coming up behind him. He was just starting to turn his head when something was jammed into his mouth.

"Don’t worry; this won’t take a minute," a harsh, mildly psychotic-sounding male voice whispered in his twitching ear.

Felinos could feel the hand—he knew it was a hand from the fingers sticking down his throat—starting to melt into the roof of his mouth. As the burning pain started to radiate down his throat, Felinos noticed that he was starting to lose control of his physical functions: his tail fell limp against the sidewalk, the bone blade clattering against the concrete.

"This genetic pattern, hmm… I think I’ve seen it somewh- What the hell?!"

The hand was ripped—actually _ripped_ , owing to the fact that it had partially fused to the roof of his mouth—out, and Felinos fell to his hands and knees. Gagging and coughing and occasionally spitting out a lump of dislodged flesh and blood, Felinos turned one baleful yellow eye to look at the jerk who had tried to kill him.

"So, you’re a Lost Unit like me, right? What are you doing all the way out here? I didn’t think Chronos sent our type out on any _real_ missions."

"Don’t know what you’re talking about," Felinos gagged out, still not quite up to taking full breaths. "I’m not with Chronos."

"Well, I guess that explains why you’re all the way out here," the man with the large facial scar said, flicking his black sunglasses so they flashed in the light. "Still, why did you come all the way out here? What’s so special about _this_ place?"

Felinos didn’t answer, instead turning his head back to look at the house where they – his once and future comrades, the ones who didn’t even know he was protecting them yet – were all staying. He knew that Toshiaki, in human form, was also standing guard somewhere just out of his line of sight.

"You still didn’t answer my question, long ears," the scarred man said, grabbing Felinos’ left ear and jerking it down hard enough that Felinos’ head went with it. "What are you doing here?"

"What’s it to _you_?"

"There are some people in that house that I’ve got an interest in," the scarred man said, gently caressing Felinos’ jaw with his fingertips. "Now, you’re a fellow Lost Unit, and you said you’re not with Chronos, so I figure I can trust you. But if you’ve come here to cause any trouble for the people in that house…" Here the scarred man’s voice became a purr as he slipped his hand around Felinos’ throat and squeezed slightly. "I’ll make sure you regret it for a very long time."


	12. Old Friends Reunite

"There are people in that house that I’m interested in, too," Felinos said, not wanting to let someone he wasn’t sure he could trust know how much of a connection he had to those people. "Don’t think _you’re_ the only one with plans."

"Well, you have balls, I’ll give you that," the scarred man said, chuckling, "so I’ll let you off easy just this once. Tell me what you’re _really_ doing here, and I’ll leave you alone."

"What do you mean?"

"You already said you didn’t work for Chronos, so there’s no way that anyone in that house could have pissed you off as much as they did me. Just tell me what you want here, and I’ll get out of your way."

"I can’t do that."

"Why the hell not?" the scarred man demanded. Then he grabbed Felinos around the throat again, squeezing harder this time. "Or have you been lying to me all this time? Did Chronos send you out here just to make me _think_ you were on my side so that _they_ could bring me in?" The grip on his throat grew painfully tight.

"I already told you I wasn’t with Chronos," Felinos growled. "There’s someone in that house I have some unfinished business with."

"You’ll have to excuse me for not buying into that line of crap— how could a rogue Lost Unit like you _claim_ to be have any kind of ties with a Guyver?"

"If I tell you the truth, how do I know you won’t kill me just out of spite?"

"Well, that depends," the scarred man said, smirking. "You think I’d have a reason to want to do that?"

Felinos, after a minute of fierce internal debate, decided to lay all of – well, almost all – his proverbial cards on the table. And hope that the proverbial shit didn’t hit the fan. "I used to work for Chronos; I was a scientist, a processing tech. Doesn’t really make much difference now, but I met up with the Guyvers during the Relics Point fiasco; my name’s Howard Jackson."

"So you were one of Chronos’ lab rats? I don’t remember you."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh, it’s a good thing," the scarred man said, lowering his sunglasses just enough to give Felinos a glimpse of his eerily bright, crimson eyes. "It’s a _very_ good thing, given the fact that I wanted to kill every single one of the lab rats I’ve had the bad luck to run across."

"Well then, I guess I’m glad you don’t remember me. Just out of curiosity, what’s your name? I can’t very well go around calling you ‘hey, you’ all the time."

"You can call me Aptom," the scarred man said as he slung his right arm around Felinos’ shoulders. "See, that’s another good thing about you right there—none of the lab rats who worked with us Lost Units ever cared that we even _had_ names."

As the two of them started walking, or rather, as Aptom started dragging and frog-marching him toward the house where all of his old friends were staying, Felinos looked over at his strange new companion.

"Wait—where are you taking me?"

"You said these guys in there were friends of yours," Aptom said, grinning more widely and not letting Felinos get a word in, "so we’re going to pay them a visit. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?"

"I get the feeling it wouldn’t matter much if I do," Felinos grumbled. "Still, there are two problems with your ‘suggestion’: none of them would be able to recognize me in this form, and I didn’t exactly bring any clothes with me."

"Never bothered me," Aptom said blithely.

" _Great_." Felinos rolled his eyes. "I just _had_ to get stuck with an exhibitionist. That’s just my luck."

Aptom laughed. "Well, if you’re body-shy, I guess you can borrow my jacket."

"Thanks," Felinos said, shifting back into his human form.

Howard took the leather jacket as Aptom handed it to him, hurriedly zipping it up and trying to pull it down so the people inside wouldn’t be able to get a look at his privates. It worked—mostly, at least—but he still felt like he was wearing a kilt. As he and Aptom walked up to the door of the house, Howard wondered what Toshiaki would think when he caught sight of what he was doing. More than that, Howard wondered what the people in that house would think when they saw him.

They’d be surprised, of course, since the last place they’d seen him was at Relics Point. The same Relics Point that was now the largest damn crater in the Japan Section. _The ‘Japan Section’?_ Howard almost rolled his eyes. _Look at me—I’m starting to think like those bastards. Though I guess it’s just a hazard of working for them for as long as I did. I wonder if Toshiaki has these problems?_

Howard knew that he’d never ask that question, though. Even if he’d been more curious than he was now, he and Toshiaki had made a silent promise that they wouldn’t ever talk about their time spent in the employ of Chronos; it just brought up too many bad memories. It was best not to disturb the old graves—not only the ones where they’d buried the remains of their friends and fellow scientists, but the graves of memory as well.

When they reached the door, Howard caught sight of Aptom’s hand. His pointer finger was morphing into some kind of long, thin claw, which Aptom proceeded to use to pick the lock on the door they were standing in front of. Howard watched in morbid fascination as the lock clicked open and Aptom shoved the door out of his way.

"Hey, Natsuki! I’m glad you’re…" Tetsuro, who’d just stepped into the main room, looked up and saw who had _really_ come into their alleged safehouse. His eyes locked on Aptom for a moment, and the scarred Lost Number actually waved at him. Then he noticed Howard, who was still trying to get Aptom’s leather jacket to cover all the… important parts of his anatomy. "Mr. Jackson?"

Howard looked over at Tetsuro. "Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see _us_ again?" Tetsuro exclaimed, rushing over to Howard and looking him over. "It’s nice to see _you_ again! I didn’t think we’d _ever_ see you again! How did you manage to get out of Relics Point?" Tetsuro glanced down. "And… why aren’t you wearing any pants?"

Howard chuckled. "Which question do you want me to answer first?"

"Wait a minute, I’ll go get the others. Then we can talk."

Tetsuro hurried off into another room, leaving Howard and Aptom alone. Toshiaki came dashing up just then, taking in the scene quickly and turning to look at Howard. "Hey, are you all right? I didn’t see you at your post, and I got-" He cut himself off, finally seeming to notice Aptom. "Who’s this?"

"This is Aptom; I think he’s on our side. I at least know he’s a Lost Number, like us."


	13. The New Breed

"Well, since these people seem to know you pretty well, I guess I’ll just-"

"Hey! I’ve seen you before!" a girl’s voice, one that neither Howard nor Toshiaki recognized, called out. "You’re that man who’s always been hanging around outside the house. Did you finally decide to come in and meet us?" she smiled, somehow looking cute and smug at the same time.

"Mr. Hayami?"

"Hi, Tetsuro, Mizuki."

The short-haired girl—and Howard was just starting to wonder if he should ask her what her name was—started over to them. At first it looked like she was going to start chatting with them, but instead she walked right past them, closed the door, and locked it up tight. Which, when Howard thought about it, seemed like a really good idea. She also locked up a second latch that Howard hadn’t noticed before.

"I can’t believe I forgot this; I _never_ forget things like this!"

"I guess there’s a first time for everything, Natsuki," Tetsuro said, smiling kindly.

"I think it was a good thing that you forgot to lock that other lock," Mizuki said, smiling at Howard and Toshiaki. "We would have never found out about what happened to our friends if you had."

"I think you’re onto something there, Mizuki," Natsuki said, laughing happily.

"Mr. Jackson? Mr. Hayami? What happened in Relics Point after we left? And how did all of you manage to get out?" Mizuki asked.

"What I really want to know is, where are the other scientists? They did come out of Relics Point with you, didn’t they? Where are you all staying?" Tetsuro asked.

"We’ve been staying at Prof. Odagiri’s mansion," Toshiaki said. "And yeah, most of the scientists who you met escaped. But…" Toshiaki trailed off, biting his lower lip.

Howard looked away, too, not wanting to be the one to tell their friends about what had happened to the rest of the people that they had known from Relics Point. In the end, he decided to change the subject.

"Hey, I almost forgot to ask; what happened to Sho? And Prof. Odagiri? And where’s Agito? I thought they’d be with you guys."

Mizuki sniffled; Tetsuro turned away; and Shizu smiled with such determined brightness that Howard and Toshiaki both knew she was in deep denial. Hell, even Aptom could tell, and the shapeshifter wasn’t exactly what one would call emotionally sensitive.

"I’m quite sure that Sho and Master Agito are both fine," Shizu said, turning toward the three guests and still smiling determinedly, hence not seeing the looks of sympathy and pity directed at her. "What I’m more interested in is what happened to all our friends from Relics Point. Why don’t I go make some tea, and then you can tell us all about it?"

With that said, Shizu turned and hurried away, presumably into the apartment’s kitchen. Coming close to the rest of the people that he’d inadvertently come to visit, because he didn’t want Shizu to hear them talking about her while she wasn’t there, Howard looked at the others.

"What’s wrong with her?"

"We were all inside the Relic when it was destroyed," Tetsuro said. "Sho was piloting—at least he _was_ , until he and Agito both left to deal with Gyou. He’d gotten out in front of the Relic and was fighting Mr. Murakami-"

"He wasn’t fighting Mr. Murakami, he was killing him!" Mizuki shrilly cut in, tears in her eyes.

Tetsuro nodded sadly. "You’re right, Mizuki. Anyway, after Gyou had… after he’d killed Mr. Murakami, Sho and Agito went outside in front of the Relic to fight him. That was when the other Zoalords appeared. Most of them were stronger than Gyou—much stronger. Though Gyou was almost half dead by then, both from what Mr. Murakami had done to him as well as probably from fighting that other Zoalord…" Tetsuro paused for breath, and both Howard and Toshiaki wondered just what was coming next. "That new Zoalord, this glowing, golden one, somehow reflected both Mega-Smasher blasts back at us; the Relic was destroyed by those."

"We haven’t seen Master Agito or Sho since that day, but I’m sure they’re fine," Shizu said as she came back into the main room. "Master Agito is probably planning something even as we speak. Sir?" she called over her shoulder to Aptom. "Would you like to stay and have some tea?"

Howard turned, noticing that Aptom had been heading for the door. The other Lost Unit stopped, turning around to look at all the people gathered in the main room of the apartment he’d just entered.

"Sure," Aptom said, smiling. "I’d love to have some tea."

He was smiling _without_ his usual Hannibal Lector-ish I’m-going-to- _eat_ -your- _face_ expression, which almost surprised Howard until he remembered that there were other people in the room, too. Aptom probably didn’t want to freak them out the way he’d tried to do with him. That thought worried Howard a bit, since Aptom was or had been acting, but Howard still wasn’t sure which had been the act and which was the real Aptom.

Turning to look back at Howard, Aptom smirked at him. Settling down next to Aptom at the table that Shizu had just finished setting up, Howard leaned over so that he could whisper in Aptom’s ear.

"What’s your game, Aptom? What are you doing?"

"I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about," Aptom said with an obviously faked sincere look. "Drink your tea."

"I want to know what you’re doing here," Howard insisted. "You said you had issues with Sho, and now we’ve learned that Sho and Agito are probably dead. So what are you still doing here?"

"You really think you want to know?" Aptom asked, raising his teacup to take a sip.

"I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t," Howard shot back.

"You haven’t known that little bastard nearly as long as I have; I know how damn hard he is to kill. If he’s not here, then he’s probably biding his time before he does something stupid like piss me off again. Besides, it’s been too long since I’ve had a good cup of tea." Aptom lifted his cup and took another sip.

Howard couldn’t really think of anything to say to that, so he fell silent and drank his own tea. One thing was for certain, though: he was going to have to have a talk with Hayami about what Aptom had said, just as soon as he could get away from the Lost Unit in question. Aptom didn’t really seem like the type who’d appreciate being talked about.

XxXxX

Sean, full from a late dinner and dozing in his bed, was wondering whether Cori would come in to kiss him goodnight before or after he fell asleep. He was hoping that she’d come when he was at least awake enough to appreciate the kiss, but as he slipped further and further from lucidity, Sean thought that that would be highly unlikely. Still, it would have been nice…

XxXxX

Just as Sean was about to fall asleep entirely, the door to his room swung open and Cori walked in. Bending over the half-asleep form of the man that she loved, she gently kissed first his right cheek and then his forehead. Sean was such a good man, even more so since he hadn’t tried to keep her from participating in this battle against Chronos once he’d seen how much it meant to her. Cori had felt that she needed to do this, and she still did, to give her father’s sacrifice at least some meaning.

He’d given his life to make sure that she was able to live, that was true, but if it hadn’t been for Chronos, he’d never have been forced to make that choice in the first place. They were evil—they’d ruined the lives of countless people. Whatever Chronos was trying to do, they weren’t going to succeed; she, Sean, and the ACTF were going to stop them before they could hurt anyone else.

The blaring of the attack alarms, as loud and sudden as they were, caused Sean to bolt upright in bed. Cori quickly got out of the way of the door, knowing that Sean would either rush right through it or one of the ACTF soldiers would come in to get him, neither of which would have been possible with her standing in the threshold the way she was. She watched as Sean dashed out of the room, then turned and headed for the Tech Division.

They were going to need her help analyzing those new Zoanoids that Chronos had been sending after them lately.

XxXxX

Sean, as he slowly woke from his semi-conscious daze, found himself running with a large group of ACTF soldiers. Or, more precisely, being dragged along as the soldiers made their way to the base armory. Sean knew the way there almost by heart after working with the ACTF for so long.

"Barker? You up yet?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Yeah; yeah, I’m alright."

"You think you’ll be good for this one?" Hallie Carson, one of the many soldiers in the Hunter Division, asked as she ran along beside him.

Sean noticed then that Hallie and the other soldier, whose name he hadn’t learned yet, were marching him in along with the other soldiers.

"I think you should transform already if you’ve got your bearings back," Larry Henderson said, signaling for the other ACTF soldiers to leave the area so Sean wouldn’t injure any of them.

Once all of them were out of the blast and Sean had gotten far enough away from the equipment that he wouldn’t damage any of it, he called for his Guyver unit. Once he was fully encased inside the alien bio-armor, he turned and ran out of the armory, following on the heels of the soldiers that had been walking with him. Once all of them had made it out of the compound, Sean looked around for their attackers.

Said attackers consisted of a large group of some kind of hulking, white-furred Zoanoids that looked like they had some insect parts mixed in just for kicks—whoever had designed these new Zoanoids for Chronos certainly had weird tastes. Sean was grateful to be wearing the Guyver— it had restored enough of his energy that he no longer felt that he was going to fall asleep on his feet, and he was facing Zoanoids of a currently unknown quantity.

They might have been just like all the other Zoanoids that Sean had ever faced during the time he’d been battling Chronos L.A., or they might have been the newer and nastier breeds he’d been facing since the ACTF had gotten fully up and running. The four long, crablike pinchers that Sean could see sticking out of their backs seemed to suggest that these guys were the tougher ones.


	14. Running Strong, Running Away

He hoped he was wrong, but something about the way they moved—the way his Guyver was reacting to them—made him fairly sure that he was right.

One of the Zoanoids lifted its head, letting off a shriek that Sean thought would have been more appropriate coming from a bird of prey. Then all of them charged, galloping on all-fours, their pinchers snapping at the air and some kind of weird green drool dribbling from their insect-like mouths. The soldiers of the Hunter Division fired into the mass of charging Zoanoids, but they leapt out of the path of the barrage with more agility and speed than their huge bulk would have even hinted at.

Even Sean had a bit of trouble keeping up with the movements of the Zoanoids, and his senses had been enhanced by the Guyver. He didn’t even want to think about what the normal soldiers were going through, fighting those things. Without another thought, Sean charged into the fray. Those furry, bug Zoanoids were fast, but they couldn’t be any real match for a Guyver. They just couldn’t be.

XxXxX

Ryan was just about to get out of bed and see if there were any bathrooms in the immediate vicinity, someone else came into the hospital room—someone severely built; someone who definitely looked like trouble. Ryan tensed slightly, careful to make sure that Mr. Badass didn’t notice him doing so, since it really wouldn’t have endeared him to the guy if he’d seen Ryan tensing up just at the sight of him.

Or maybe it would have, and in that case Ryan didn’t want to give the jerk the satisfaction of knowing just how much his presence affected him.

"The nurse _said_ you were up," Mr. Badass said, sounding gruff and at the same time completely disinterested in what he was doing at the moment.

Ryan figured he could work with that. When Mr. Badass walked up behind the bed he was still on and started pushing, Ryan leaned back and tried to make it look like he was relaxed. All the while, though, he was wondering just what the hell was going on.

"Hey, big guy, just where are we going?" Ryan asked, even as he crossed his arms behind his head and made a concerted effort to appear relaxed.

"Can’t tell you," Mr. Badass said shortly.

_ Strike one, _ Ryan thought grimly, clenching his teeth briefly. "What’s going to happen to me?"

"Can’t say."

_ Strike two. _ "Where am I, anyway?"

"That’s really none of your business, kid."

_ Strike three; I am so outta here. _ "Well, if that’s what you think…"

Lunging sideways suddenly, Ryan threw himself over the side of the bed. Then, before Mr. Badass could get out more than a few surprised syllables, Ryan ducked under the bed and leapt out from the other side. Getting to his feet, he ran—he may not have known where exactly he was, but one thing he was sure of was that whoever Mr. Badass was, he didn’t want to have anything to do with him. And so he was going to haul ass out of here, wherever _here_ turned out to be. Turning his head at the sound of heavy footfalls behind him, Ryan saw that Mr. Badass was following him.

He’d pretty much expected something like that to happen, since the guy hadn’t seemed like the type to take his escape well. Not that Ryan gave a flying fuck about what Mr. Badass thought of him, but still—the guy looked pretty buff. Maybe he should start looking for somewhere to lose the guy, but the wall looming just ten feet in front of him startled him almost enough to stop him in his tracks.

Since that would have been an extremely _bad_ idea, what with Mr. Badass hot on his heels and all, Ryan turned the corner into the hallway he’d seen out of the corner of his eye. Mr. Badass tried to come after him, pretty much like Ryan had expected. Seeing him almost crash headfirst into the wall was pretty funny, though, and it gave Ryan at least _some_ hope about his current situation. _Can’t corner worth a damn; I can work with this._

Mr. Badass evidently heard Ryan laughing at him, because he shot Ryan the filthiest glare he could, and Ryan grinned back, flipping him off just as he lost sight of him around the corner. The hallway in front of him was empty, but Ryan had the distinct feeling then that that situation wasn’t going to last very long—not with him loose and Mr. Badass so obviously chasing after him.

Whatever screwed-up hospital this place was—and it had to be _seriously_ screwed-up, given the fact that he’d managed to catch a glimpse of actual _restraints_ on that bed just before he’d run like hell—Ryan was willing to put at least some money on there being orderlies here. Or, more likely, some kind of strong-guy guards, like those hairy, sweaty, no-necked, severely mentally deficient guys that he’d always made it a point to _strenuously_ _avoid_ in school.

_ This is going to be just a joy, _ Ryan thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Looking for someplace to hide that Mr. Badass or his cohorts wouldn’t think to look for him, Ryan heard the man running after him. _Well, this day officially sucks._

XxXxX

Sean had long since learned that, whatever breed of Zoanoids these new ones were, they were more dangerous than any other that he’d ever faced before. Their claws were extremely sharp, and what was worse, they exuded some kind of acid that was powerful enough to dissolve even the Guyver’s tough armor. He’d been a lot more careful to stay out of spitting-range when he was facing those things.

He still found it strange that these things would actually _spit_ the acid at him, rather than having it come out of some other kind of nozzle like Panadyne’s had been set on his shoulders. But as one of the buglike, white Zoanoids leaped at him, Sean found that the spitting wasn’t quite so funny anymore. Now it was dangerous again.

He also knew that he had to find a way to get past their heads and the long, sharp pinchers that stuck out of their backs. Their heads, despite the fact that their necks looked about a foot long, weren’t very flexible. Then again, that was probably why they had the pincers in the first place: to keep any of their faster targets from being able to get a shot at their heads. Racing at the nearest white-furred, insectile Zoanoid—one that was harassing a group of ACTF Hunters—Sean zigzagged to avoid the acid that it had started spitting at him.

Once he had gotten within stabbing-range of the Zoanoid’s pincers, he was even more careful to avoid getting caught by them. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the pincers themselves, since the Guyver’s armor was probably tough enough to stand up to them, as Sean didn’t know of any Zoanoid that could pierce the Guyver’s armor just by scratching it, but he knew they _would_ be able to hold him in place long enough for the Zoanoid to spit enough acid at him to incapacitate him.

Moving out of the way of the long, stabbing pincers, he managed to leap up onto the Zoanoid’s back. Grabbing onto the base of the long, spider-like legs that the pincers were attached to, he extended the sword on the Guyver’s left arm and slammed it deep into the yielding flesh of the Zoanoid’s back, just below the thing’s left shoulder. Sean was exultant, at least until the pain hit him, and then he wasn’t quite sure who screamed louder— him or the Zoanoid.

Ripping his blade out of the Zoanoid’s back, Sean saw the damage that the Zoanoid’s blood – _blood_ of all things – had done to his armor. The blade on his arm was eaten through almost entirely, and even the armor itself showed signs of corrosion. But what mattered far more than the damage to his armor, although that in itself was very worrying was the pain that he was in. _What the hell is this thing—some kind of Xenomorph?!_

Either someone had been watching too many _Alien_ movies, or- Sean was in too much pain from the Zoanoid’s corrosive blood to finish that thought. What was even worse was that the Zoanoid had thrashed hard enough to throw him off, and it was now turning toward him with murder in its four red eyes. Sean dodged, just as a particularly large spray of acid was discharged from the Zoanoid’s mandibled mouth. 

Ducking out of the way as the white Zoanoid spat at him twice more, he leaped backwards and out of the way of a stab from all four of the pinchers. Panting, he looked back over his right shoulder as his sensors alerted him to the other Zoanoid closing in on him. It was another of the white ones, of course, obviously trying to help the first one double-team him. While he hated Chronos for making these Zoanoids, Sean had to wonder just how they had come up with them in the first place.

He had never seen anything even remotely like them in all the time he’d been fighting Chronos and the Zoanoids they’d created. Sure, he had faced off against his share of insect-like Zoanoids, but none of them had possessed extra limbs, and more importantly _none_ of them had been able to spit _acid_. Sure, there had been that one that had looked like a rabid bunny and had spit some kind of sticky, saplike stuff at him, but that thing hadn’t been what anyone would call dangerous.

None of the Zoanoids that Sean had ever faced had been this dangerous. These things weren’t even standing still long enough for him to use the massive cannon in the Guyver’s chest to destroy them the way that he’d done with Crane when he’d become a Guyver-Zoanoid. On top of that, though, they were too fast for Sean to be confident of scoring more than a glancing hit on them with that weapon, and stabbing them to death was obviously out, since he certainly wasn’t going to forget the pain of having parts of his arm dissolving in that Zoanoid’s acid blood anytime soon.

The sense of something fast coming at him from behind caught by the Guyver’s head sensors, and Sean leaped out of the way. Thinking it was another one of those white Zoanoids, Sean charged up the laser in the Guyver’s forehead and turned to confront his new opponent, but it turned out that he needn’t have worried so much, as it turned out to be the ACTF’s Hunter Division firing on the attacking Zoanoids. Their first shot hit the armored shoulders of one of the white Zoanoids, not really causing much damage but still managing to disorient the Zoanoid slightly.

The next shot hit above the armored shoulder, but below the armor-plating on the creature’s neck. It must have ignited the Zoanoid’s acidic blood, because the next thing Sean knew the Zoanoid had burst into roaring flames. The other eight Zoanoids, seeing the fate that would soon be theirs, scattered and kept low to the ground. Sean didn’t think that that was likely to help them, since the ACTF was now aware of just how to kill those bug-headed bastards.

Looking around for any other Zoanoids—preferably ones that _didn’t_ come equipped with deadly Guyver-melting acid blood—Sean failed to spot any. This group seemed to be made up of only the acid equipped Zoanoids, which didn’t sit well with Sean at all.

XxXxX

Since he’d been headed to that area anyway, and since Kenji had seemed to be getting bored cooped up in Cloud Tower, Imakarum had decided to take his son to the South American Section to visit with Lord Waferdanos. Kenji seemed to be very eager to learn about the workings of Chronos’ Zoanoid Development Division, and so Imakarum thought that it would be good for him to see another Division with other Zoanoids being developed there.

Even though the Zoanoid Development Divisions within the various branches of Chronos were all laid out on the same basic floor plan, the Zoanoids developed there were distinctly disparate from one another, especially the ones that had been developed to thrive in tropical environments, as Lord Waferdanos’ were. They would be quite different than those that were developed in more temperate climates like Japan. It would be very instructive for Kenji to see these Zoanoids, especially if what Lord Fried’rich said had about his interest turned out to be true.

For now, though, Kenji seemed enthralled enough just looking at the thick jungle passing beneath him that Imakarum didn’t want to disturb him.


	15. Quality Time

"Wow! I’ve never seen so many trees before Dad," Kenji exclaimed, pressing his hands against the left-side window of their helicopter. "And all of them are so big!"

"Yes, they are," Imakarum said, watching indulgently as Kenji looked back and forth, seeming to be trying to take in the entire vista at once. "We’re currently flying over the Amazon rainforest, one of the largest in the world. We’ll also be arriving at Chronos Brazil soon, so I want you to be on your best behavior."

"I will, Dad. Don’t worry," Kenji said, turning to look over his shoulder as he spoke.

"That’s my boy," Imakarum said proudly, leaning forward to stroke Kenji’s tied-back hair.

"Um, Dad?"

"Yes, Kenji-chan?"

"Who’s Waferdanos? I don’t think I’ve ever met him before."

"It’s true you haven’t really met him," Imakarum said. "However, you might remember that he _was_ there on the day that I presented you to the Council. He was the one sitting next to Lord Hamilcal. You remember Lord Hamilcal, don’t you?"

"Uhm…" Kenji paused to think for a moment. "Oh! I remember him; I still think he looks like Santa Claus."

"You’re never going to let that go, are you Kenji-chan?" Imakarum chuckled, leaning back against his well-padded seat.

"Nope," Kenji chirped, smiling over his shoulder.

Imakarum chuckled deep in his throat, leaning closer to Kenji so that he could play with his son’s hair. Kenji had decided to start wearing his hair in a ponytail a week-and-a-half ago, claiming that his long hair made the back of his neck itch. At first, Imakarum had been leery of the idea, which was presumably why Kenji hadn’t expressed the desire to do that kind of thing much earlier and had just resorted to scratching the back of his neck at odd times.

Miaka had always worn her hair that way, and with Kenji’s already uncanny resemblance to her, Imakarum wasn’t particularly eager to have his son doing something that would make him look even more like his long-dead mother. But all of that had been before he’d seen how cute Kenji looked with his hair tied back. The look really did suit him, even as much as it sometimes threatened to distract Imakarum from his assigned duties.

But right at the moment there was no one to see them, no one to see that he was not acting as an Overlord of Chronos was expected to, and so Imakarum continued to play with Kenji’s hair. Kenji’s obvious pleasure in such a simple act made Imakarum very reluctant to stop, but when the pilot announced that they had arrived at Chronos Brazil and would hence be landing soon, Imakarum knew that he would have to do so soon. Once the transport had landed, Imakarum gently helped Kenji to stand and took his hand.

He knew that the physical contact would help Kenji to not feel so bereft after losing his father’s ministrations on his hair, and so Imakarum gently tugged on Kenji’s hand to get him to follow along.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Kenji?" Imakarum turned to look at his son over his left shoulder.

"What’s Chronos Brazil like, anyway?"

"I don’t know," Imakarum admitted, making his way out of the main heliport and down from the roof of Chronos’ Brazilian installation. "I’ve never been to this Section before."

"Why not?"

"I just never saw any particular reason to come here; I wasn’t particularly curious, and there were no major problems reported in the area."

"What made you want to come here now, Dad?"

"I finally decided that I was, in fact, curious about this Section of Chronos," Imakarum stated, knowing even as he spoke that his words were only half true. "I’ve never been to a rainforest either—at least not one of such an immense size."

Masaki Murakami had been to a rainforest, but Masaki Murakami was dead, and Imakarum was not about to rely on the memories of a dead man to tell him anything about the place that he was now going to. Kenji seemed to realize that the conversation was ended, since he said nothing more on the matter of what they were doing or where they were going. That was good, since it let Imakarum consider just what he was going to say to Lord Waferdanos when they met.

He knew that the Third Zoalord, who held dominion over this Section of Chronos, was very loyal to Lord Alkanphel’s cause. So there was no reason to discuss things of that nature with him. Perhaps he could take in the scenery at the spa when he wasn’t looking after Kenji. It really was a pleasant place, this Paradise Valley Health Spa that Lord Waferdanos had created as the focal point of the South America Section.

It was certainly an interesting way to get the humans to respond positively to Chronos, at least in this area of the world.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Kenji?" Imakarum said as he turned to look over his right shoulder.

"Can we have something to eat before we go look around at Chronos Brazil? I’m hungry."

"I think we could manage to do that," Imakarum said, chuckling. "We don’t have any real schedule to keep, after all."

Turning slightly as Kenji touched his left arm, Imakarum smiled as his son slipped his hand into his. Imakarum gently squeezed his fingers before he started down the stairway that would lead them into Chronos Brazil. He had to let go for a few minutes while they descended the staircase, since it wasn’t wide enough for the two of them to walk abreast, but when they reached the main floor Imakarum took Kenji’s hand again and stroked the back of it.

Kenji turned his sun-bright smile on Imakarum, and they continued on their way into the main area of Chronos Brazil. They would have to avoid the humans in this place, since he wasn’t dressed for dealing with them and Kenji was still so obviously a child – in mind if not in body – but that would be very easy for someone like him.

He’d managed to find a janitor’s supply closet and a uniform that fit him without looking too baggy, and now Ryan was trying to find a way to get out of… of wherever it was that he was being held. He’d long since made up his mind that this place couldn’t possibly be any kind of hospital, no matter how they tried to dress the place up—there were too many big, armed guards, for one thing, and for another the place was entirely too empty.

Not empty of people, of course, what with the massive amount of guards and… other types of people they had running around in the place.


	16. Strange Accommodations

Still, Ryan wasn’t quite sure what to make of the place he’d somehow gotten stuck in, other than the fact that it was huge and stuffed with the kinds of people that he usually went out of his way to avoid. The business-suited types weren’t as much of a concern to him as the guys in the stupid-looking helmets; they were all uniformly buff, and they had the look of some of the dumber bruisers that he’d been subjected to back at school. Some of the guys in the business suits were pretty damn huge, though, and Ryan definitely didn’t want to get on the wrong side of one of them. Still, he wanted _out_ of this weird place, and if that meant that he’d have to find a way to get past a bunch of Neanderthals, then so be it.

Stepping out into the hallway with the air of someone who knew what the hell he was doing and pushing a cart laden with supplies, Ryan set his mind to searching for a good place to make a break from. There weren’t so many people in this area, just a few of those lab-coated scientist-types that he’d been seeing more and more of since even before he’d ducked into the closet to escape the crazies that’d been tailing him. Those types Ryan felt he actually had a chance of taking on, if not for the fact that they could probably call up an entire goon squad to come done on him.

_ So no beating up the scientists for information, Crouger. We’re going to have to find another way to go about this. _ What that other way was, though, Ryan wasn’t quite sure yet. He’d find it, though; he’d find it, and then he’d be able to leave this place and everything in it behind.

There _was_ still the niggling question of just why these guys wanted him, out of all the people in the hospital Mom had taken him to. _Oh, shit! Mom! I didn’t even know how these guys managed to pick_ me _out of a crowd; but if they went after me, then that means that she could be stuck in this hellhole too. Okay; calming down. Thinking back._ Ryan took a series of deep breaths to try and do just that.

_ First up, Mom never went into the hospital with me. She apologized, but she said she had work to get done. That’s good; probably means she didn’t end up getting dragged out here. Wherever the hell ‘here’ turns out to be. _ Feeling a slight twinge in his back, up by his shoulders, Ryan paused for a moment to think. That, whatever it was, hadn’t felt like an itch of any kind.

In fact, if Ryan had been asked to put a name on what he was feeling at the moment… _Oh, hell, don’t tell me—I’m developing some kind of Spider-sense. Didn’t know I could spontaneously jump into comic books. Or maybe I just passed a signpost while I was out and nobody bothered to tell me._ Smirking, Ryan turned and started heading in the direction that the call seemed to be coming from.

Maybe there was something there that could help him. In any case, if he didn’t find out just what was giving him those weird vibes, he’d go crazy wondering about it.

The feeling seemed to be coming from somewhere ahead of him and off to his right, though Ryan wasn’t entirely sure how far away the source of his amorphous _feeling_ was. The sense he was getting from… wherever the hell he was getting it wasn’t being too forthcoming about any kind of location. So that meant that he was going to have to hunt it down all by his lonesome.

Hunt down the source of a vaguely directional "sense" with the large amount of goons that whoever was in charge of this mondo-bizarro place had no doubt sicced on him once they’d gotten word that he’d escaped from whatever it was that they’d had planned for him. It should make things interesting, at least. _Yeah, really interesting; trying to keep my ass from being made by guys more than twice my size who look like they eat nails for breakfast. And I don’t mean the finger kind. Well, here’s to not getting caught._

Pulling his denim cap down tighter over his mass of bright, extremely obvious red hair, Ryan set off again. The hallway he was in seemed to be empty for the moment, but that could change really fast, as Ryan was completely aware, so he kept his eyes forward and his head down as he pushed the service cart he’d appropriated from the janitor’s closet when he’d snagged the uniform. He also found himself wishing for a pair of sunglasses—not only were the fluorescent lights starting to give him a headache, but this place was strange enough that he wanted to get as close a look as he could at it. If his eyes had been hidden by a pair of dark, polarized shades, he could have looked around to his heart’s content and no one would have been the wiser as long as he didn’t turn his head too often. As things stood now, though, he couldn’t.

He was supposed to be acting the part of someone who worked here—someone who knew what was what—and gawking like an idiot at everything he saw would have really spoiled the illusion, so Ryan reined himself in. It wasn’t really all that hard: he just kept reminding himself that no matter how freakily interesting this place was, he wanted to get the hell out before someone caught him. That was enough to curb any curiosity on his part.

Once they had made it to the spare room—only one room for the three of them—there was the matter of deciding who was going to take the bed. Howard had been surprised that Aptom had even decided to stay with them in the first place, but their fellow Lost Unit had the air of someone who was doing something just to be annoying.

"Okay, so the giant cat can curl up on the floor," Aptom said, grinning and pointing at him. "’Freezer here can find some place to cool _his_ heels, and I’ll take that nice, cozy bed there."

"Who died and made you Overlord?" Howard demanded. "And why are you even taking the bed, anyway? You said you didn’t sleep."

"Well, given the fact that I _ate_ the last guy, I figured you wouldn’t want to get into a fight with me," Aptom stepped closer, grinning like the sadistic maniac he was. "Of course, if you really _want_ to make an issue of where I lay down tonight, you’re welcome to it."

"All right, stop it, you two," Toshiaki said, firmly putting himself between Aptom and Howard before any fists – or assorted other body parts – could start flying. "That bed’s a King, so that means that all of us should be able to fit on it comfortably."

"You honestly expect me to share a bed with two _guys_?" Aptom ridiculed. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"Why don’t you just think of us as fellow Lost Units," Howard mocked, smirking in the same manner that Aptom had when they’d first met.

"Fine," Aptom said, still grinning in that creepy way he’d been doing on and off throughout the day. "But if you guys snore, I’m eating your heads."

"What?!" Toshiaki exclaimed, obviously shocked.

"If either of you two snores, then _I_ ," Aptom pointed to himself, "will _eat—_ " He made a lunging, chomping motion. "your _heads_."

"You don’t have to patronize us," Howard growled. "We’re not _stupid_."

"Oh? You sure about that?"

Before Howard could come up with a suitably crushing retort, Toshiaki stepped in and shoved them apart again. "Will you two just knock it off already? Go take a shower, Howard; it’ll make you feel better. And Aptom, go do… something else. All right?"

"Fine," Howard said, shrugging and leaving the room.

He really was grateful to Toshiaki for dealing with Aptom, since all he could seem to do was get angry at the guy. Then again, Aptom did seem to be going out of his way to provoke them. Maybe this was how he got those other Zoanoids to attack him, which would make sense, since most Zoanoids weren’t stupid enough to attack someone who was so obviously stronger and meaner than they.

And likewise, the Zoalords weren’t likely to send their troops after something that literally _ate_ Zoanoids. Then again, maybe he was reading too much into the situation. Maybe Aptom was just a jerk, and that was all there was to it.

As he opened the door to the bathing area and closed it behind him, Howard took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Now wasn’t the time to think about Aptom anymore. Now it was time for him to have a nice, warm shower and forget about his troubles for the rest of the day. As he stripped, tossing his clothes into a convenient hamper, Howard put all the thoughts of Chronos, of Aptom, of the Guyvers, and of what their strategy was going to have to be out of his mind.

He was just going to enjoy himself now, let the hot water wash over him as he cleaned himself and forget for as long as he could what he was. Forget the fact that he was a refugee rebel; forget that if anyone outside the apartment saw him, he would be hunted down and dragged back to Chronos for interrogation and "orderly disposal". As he turned the water on and adjusted it to his preferred temperature, he shuddered.

_ That _ particular euphemism was far too kind to describe what Chronos did when they were finished interrogating someone. Being tossed – still alive and screaming – into the incinerator chute that all of the Chronos bases Howard had ever worked at came equipped with, was only orderly in the sense that it didn’t leave any remains behind. But he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about things like that right now, Howard reminded himself.

He was just going to take a shower, and then he was going to go to bed. In the same bed with Aptom, the same guy who had tried to eat him when they first met. Sighing under the stream of hot water he was standing in, Howard reminded himself that things were going to be all right. Probably. Aptom knew that he didn’t work for Chronos anymore, so there would be no reason for him to try to eat him again. Probably.

_ That’s one too many probabilities for my taste, but I guess I’ll just have to soldier on through. The same way I always did… back then. _ As Howard lathered up his hair for the first time, he got the slightly uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. But that was stupid—no one would be watching him while he was in the shower. None of the people in this house were the type to peep in on someone when they were in the shower.

When Howard looked down, feeling something sliding over his abdominal muscles, he saw the right hand and arm of a well-built person wrapped around him. _What the… who the hell would be walking in on my shower, and who’d be… licking the back of my neck?!?_ Grabbing the offender around the waist and throwing him out of the shower, Howard turned to yell at the pervert who’d been trying to molest him.

Said pervert turned out to be Aptom, which really had to be the worst kind of joke that fate had played on him in awhile.

"Get out, you sick, psychotic pervert! What the hell did you think you were doing?!"

Laughing hysterically as he left the room, Aptom didn’t say a word. Fuming, Howard went back to lathering his hair. He’d get Aptom for that later.


	17. Recriminations

Sitting in his plush chair in his newly furnished office, Dr. Ethan Nathaniel brooded. While it _was_ true that he had managed to secure a higher position for himself in Chronos, the cost had been one that was going to haunt him for a good, long time. The price had been the life of Ryan Crouger, the son of two very good friends of his. He and Ryan had even started to develop a friendship of their own, but of course all of that was over now.

Dr. Balkus would probably dissect him, or brainwash him—something to keep the second-to-last Guyver from ever being able to do anything that would interfere with Chronos’ plans. And Ethan himself had been a party to that betrayal: he was responsible for everything that happened to that poor boy. And he would have to live with himself for every day of the rest of his life, knowing that he had sold out a boy that he had started to become friends with.

Ryan’s parents didn’t know of his own personal role in the disappearance of their son, since one of the other divisions had given the report. He’d just had to sign it, and he’d done that without even taking the time to read through it, not wanting to think any more about what he’d done. Whatever excuses Chronos had prepared for Ryan’s immediate family were bound to be airtight. It had to be, to keep them from coming to the hospital to demand to know where their son was.

Dr. Nathaniel knew that whatever excuse Chronos had given them would give Norman and Norma no reason to try and find out what was going on with their son, but he just had no desire to know what that particular excuse had been. Ever. He may have been on Chronos’ payroll; he may have been effectively enslaved by their anti-rebellion virus; but he had at least _some_ freedom left, even if that freedom mostly consisted of being able to ignore the tings he didn’t like. He may not have been overly fond of the hand he’d been dealt, but nothing as evil as Chronos could survive for very long.

Ethan knew that if he kept on living, he’d eventually find a way to rebel against the ones who had created Chronos in the first place. Where there was life there was hope, after all.

XxXxX

As he made his way slowly closer to where the tingling in his shoulders seemed to be coming from – at least judging by the way it kept getting stronger the closer he came – Ryan got the distinct feeling that he was being watched, and more than that, that he was being followed. Walking on, playing like he hadn’t noticed a thing, Ryan tried to gauge just what kind of person was following him.

From the sound of the footsteps, his follower was pretty big, which probably meant that whoever was following him was a guy. Either that, or a very big woman, but Ryan didn’t think that was very likely, since the few women he’d seen here were wither normal sized or looked like buff gymnast-types. So definitely—probably—a guy.

"Ahh!" he yelped in response to the guy-who-was-probably-male reaching out and grabbing his ass. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" Swatting the offending hand off, Ryan turned to confront the ass-grabber. "Next time you try to molest me, I’m going to kick you in the face, pervert."

"You’re a guy?!"

"Oh, you finally noticed," Ryan drawled, rolling his eyes as he started pushing the supply cart again. "It’s not like I have a really feminine figure, you know." _Jackass._

"Hey, _you_ were the one wearing baggy clothes. What, you couldn’t find a uniform that actually fit?"

"And just because I was wearing baggy clothes, _you_ assumed that I was a girl and decided to grope my ass," Ryan sneered. "You’re not really familiar with Earth-logic are you, Chachi?"

"Don’t call me Chachi," Pissy Pervert guy snapped. "The name’s Richard, got that, kid?"

"Whatever you say, Dick."

"And don’t call me Dick, either, kid."

"The guy who just groped my ass does _not_ get to specify what I can and can’t call him. Now back off, I’ve got stuff to clean." 

Ryan turned away from Pissy Pervert guy, pushing the cart toward the room where the "call" he was getting seemed to be strongest.

"I don’t recall ever meeting you, kid," Pissy Pervert guy said, falling into step beside him as he continued to walk. "I’ve got a good memory for faces, too."

"I’m new," Ryan lied easily as they finally made it to the door of the room Ryan wanted to be inside. The call was really strong now, throbbing in his shoulders and making him want to be inside that room, just so he could find out what the hell was going on.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," the guy said as he continued to keep pace with Ryan as he walked.

"Don’t you have some other place to be? You look like a pretty busy guy," Ryan said, trying not to make the get-the-hell-away-from-me vibes too strong, not wanting to piss the guy off too much.

"I don’t really have anywhere to be right now," the guy said, slinging an arm around Ryan’s shoulders as they walked, even as Ryan tried not to cringe. "Besides, I’d like to do something to make up for the way I treated you when we first met."

"You mean for the way you groped my ass," Ryan said, giving the guy a sidelong look. He seemed to have a fairly good sense of humor, so Ryan figured it was safe to screw with him a little.

"Yeah, that," the guy said, chuckling in a slightly self-deprecating manner.

"I kinda need to get in this room," Ryan said, once they stood before the door.

"Just use your pass-code, small fry."

_ Crap. _ "Well, I’d do that, but I kind of forgot it." Ryan gently rapped himself on the head with his knuckles. "Mind like a sieve, me."

"No wonder they stuck you out here with the scutwork," the guy remarked, grinning as he punched in a certain combination into the keypad by the right side of the door.

Ryan didn’t even bother trying to memorize it, since judging by what ol’ Dick had said, the code was different for everyone. So trying to get into the rooms with a "borrowed" door code probably wasn’t the best idea, or even a possible one, given the way all these guys seemed to be completely obsessive about their security.

One of the guys inside the room—someone in a long lab coat who Ryan didn’t have to look at that long to recognize as a scientist—turned to look him over.

"What are you doing in here?"

Since the question was obviously directed at him, Ryan answered, "Mopping. Maybe a side of dusting, too. I’m not completely sure about that, but mostly I’m here for the mopping."

"Let me see your work order," one of the stuffier-looking scientists huffed, holding out his hand.

_ And, of course, double crap. _ "I think I left that in my other uniform."

"You mean the one that actually _fits_?" Dick ribbed, grinning.

"Yeah," Ryan said, smirking back. "I kind of overslept and had to get dressed in a hurry. And then I couldn’t find my locker… but all that’s in the past now," Ryan said, shrugging with what he hoped was convincing nonchalance. "And I’ve got mopping to do. So I’m just going to go over there and start, yeah?" Ryan said, pointing over at the far wall of the room.


	18. Attempted Deception

The call was throbbing in his shoulders now, but Ryan wasn’t going to try and fight his way past that many people, even if some of them did look pretty weedy. Instead, he was going to work his way closer slowly, in a manner that wouldn’t make anyone suspicious. These guys were probably capable of calling up those goons he’d been running from in the first place. _On the other hand, going over to look at that gigantic cocoon-thingy might be just what someone in this situation would do._

"So," Ryan called over his shoulder. "What’s that big thing you guys seem so interested in?"

"What we’re studying here is of no consequence to _you_ ," one of the other scientists said snootily. "You just concentrate on your work."

"Yes, _sir_ ," Ryan said. _Asshole._

Turning back to the tract of floor he’d set himself up to mop, he tried to ignore the throbbing in his shoulders. He pretty much knew where it was coming from now: that huge-ass cocoon on the floor in the center of the room was giving off a seriously strong vibe to whatever it was that had jammed itself in his back. That was going to make it a little harder to ignore the thing while he went about pretending to work, but that was what he had to do if he was going to get the chance to look at that thing without getting in trouble with the goon squad.

When he heard the door slide open, he almost turned to look over his shoulder to see who had just come in. Then he figured that that wouldn’t have been a very janitor-ish thing to do, so he kept mopping. When the guy started talking—he knew it was a guy from the sound of his voice—he started to wonder just why it was that he sounded so familiar.

Where would he have heard this guy’s voice?

Casually turning to look over his shoulder, all the while making sure he kept mopping, Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin. It was Mr. Badass himself! _I was sure I lost that guy somewhere around my fifth right turn! Lousy, crud-munching Volvo-humper._

Turning back to his mopping, Ryan tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as he could. When the guys in the room started talking about "that tricky green-eyed bastard," Ryan started to wish he’d found a pair of sunglasses to put on over his very obviously green eyes. When he glanced over at the guys who were talking about him, he bit his tongue to keep himself from jumping when Dick pointed him out to Mr. Badass.

Ryan turned back to his mopping, moving more quickly so he’d hopefully persuade Mr. Badass to not try and have a chat with him. He jumped slightly when he saw Mr. Badass heading for him, especially since the guy had a rather unpleasant look on his face. Subtly picking up a bottle full of bleach, Ryan braced it against the cart and pushed/twisted the cap off, palmed it, and tossed it onto the cart’s bottom shelf. Now, at least, he had a weapon.

When a large, meaty hand clamped down on his shoulder, Ryan turned his most annoying – at least according to other people – smirk on the guy.

" _You_!"

"That’s right, Chachi," Ryan drawled, waggling his eyebrows at the guy. "And I’ve got something else for you!"

Throwing the bottle of bleach forward with all the force he could muster in the confined space he had to work with, Ryan was rewarded with the sight of a large amount of its contents splashing into Mr. Badass’ face. Shoving the cart at him and making sure his own hand was still closed firmly around the handle of the bottle of bleach – pretty much the only weapon he had right now – Ryan turned and ran.

_ I hope I can find another way out of this room,  _ Ryan thought as he ducked a swing aimed to knock him over and then deliberately spilled some bleach on the floor to trip up his pursuers. _If I can’t, then I’m in some seriously deep shit._

XxXxX

There was someone – someone like _him_ , someone connected to what he was, somehow – and that person was in very grave danger. He wanted to help, but the other one was far away from where he was, and for some reason he couldn’t move. So the person he wanted to help would have to get closer to him. That meant that he would have to find a way to communicate with the one who was like him.

The one who was in danger.

He tried, but the one he was trying to communicate with didn’t respond the first time; he seemed to be too preoccupied with the danger he was in. It was good that he was trying to keep himself safe, but from the feeling he was getting from his… counterpart, he didn’t have much hope to get out of the situation he was in. That was why he was going to have to try harder to contact him.

**_ You have to listen to me! Get closer to the… the cocoon! It’s your only chance to get out of there! _ **

He could sense that his counterpart was worried—worried about his pursuers catching him, but worried about something else as well. There would be time to find out what else he was worried about once the two of them were safe, since this place – whatever or wherever it was – was dangerous to the both of them. The ones out there were trying to get inside his cocoon, trying to break open the only thing that was keeping him safe and out of their hands, and the only way that the both of them were going to get out of this place safely was if his counterpart came with him; he could sense that somehow.

**_ Listen to me, you have to get to cocoon! It’s your only chance to get out of here! _ **

He could feel his counterpart responding to him, moving closer and finally touching the cocoon that he was staying inside. Once his counterpart was close enough, he started to open the cocoon.

**_ I can save you! Please, let me. _ **

** Sure thing. Just make sure you know what you’re doing. **

Focusing, he opened the cocoon just long enough to let his counterpart fall inside—just long enough to be able to protect them both.


	19. Meeting of Minds

**_ Who are you? _ **

** Well, who are you? And thanks for the assist, by the way. **

**_ I’m… Sho… Crouger… um, who are you? _ **

** I’m… Ryan… Fukamachi? **

**_ I… somehow I don’t think that sounds right. _ **

** Yeah, you’re right. So, who do you think we are? **

**_ I’m… I’m sorry, but I’m just not sure. _ **

** Well, I guess I can’t blame you for that. I’m not even sure myself. **

**_ So, what can we do? _ **

** About what? **

**_ Well, I can’t explain it, but just I have this feeling that we should be doing something. _ **

** Fair enough. You have any idea just what you’re supposed to be doing? **

**_ Not… not really. _ **

** Great. **

**_ But I do know that it’s something important. _ **

** Or so you hope. **

**_ What does that mean? _ **

** I’m playing Devil’s Advocate here; work with me. **

**_ Oh. I guess you’re right, though. I don’t really know that what I’m talking about is anything more than just some crazy fantasy. _ **

** Now you’re getting the idea. **

**_ Well, do  _ ** ** you _have any idea what we’re doing in here?_ **

** Not a one. What’s your point? **

**_ Well, then, why don’t we just go with mine? _ **

** You mean the one where we’re superheroes with some great Purpose? **

**_ Is that really so hard to believe? Look at where we are. _ **

** We could have just been abducted by aliens, you know. **

**_ Well, okay. Maybe you’re right. But still, don’t you want to find out what happened to us? _ **

** Yeah, I guess so. **

**_ Then you’ll help me? _ **

** Sure. **

**_ Great. First what we need to do is get out of here. _ **

** You mean get out of this… whatever it is that we’re stuck inside? **

**_ No. Well, not yet at least. _ **

** Why? **

**_ Because this… This thing is all that protecting us. _ **

** Okay, you’ve lost me again. Protecting us from what? **

**_ From… From something bad. _ **

** And that tells me exactly nothing. **

**_ I know. I just can’t explain it right now. _ **

** Obviously. **

**_ Just… help me with this, will you? _ **

** All right. What do you want me to do? **

**_ Think of someplace. _ **

** What kind of place? **

**_ Somewhere where you feel… _ **

** Where I feel what? **

**_ I… well, I was going to say protected, but I don’t think there’s anywhere like that. _ **

** I might know a place. **

**_ Really? Then think of it, please. I have a feeling I can get us there. _ **

** If you say so… **


	20. Strange Angel Rescue

Dr. Balkus, staring at the mysterious cocoon that had somehow absorbed the Fifth Guyver, fumed silently. He could now sense two minds within the solid shell of the cocoon that had been discovered at the remains of Mt. Minakami. Seeing the Fifth Guyver disappear into that cocoon had been strange, even for one such as he, who had seen so much, but the fact that the cocoon had resisted all of their attempts to open it in order to extract the Fifth Guyver made it an even more extreme annoyance.

His underlings had not been at all pleased with those developments, either. Yet, in the manner of the Relic from which it had presumably originated, the cocoon steadily resisted all of Chronos’ attempts to breach its outer hull. There had even been some who had suggested dealing with the cocoon in the same manner that they had dealt with the Relic. While it was an option to have Zoanoids try and open the cocoon, Dr. Balkus did not want to risk damaging the Fifth Guyver and anything else that might have been inside.

When the cocoon started pulsing, resembling a human heartbeat more than anything else, the doctor’s first reaction was surprise. The bright bursts of light grew more intense with each pulse, and he had to squint his eyes and close his pupils to keep himself from being at the very least temporarily blinded. When the last and brightest flash of light had cleared, Dr. Balkus fully re-opened his eyes and pupils without a second’s hesitation.

What he saw once he had did not please him at all: the Relic cocoon had vanished. Stepping into the space on the floor that the Relic cocoon had occupied only scant seconds before, Dr. Balkus sensed a great deal of residual energy. There was, of course, no real way to trace that energy to wherever it had come from or gone to, and as much as he was loath to have to do it, he knew that he would have to wait for confirmation from another group of Zoanoids before he could know where to look for the Relic cocoon.

It was not a situation that he liked at all.

XxXxX

The first thing that Ryan’s waking mind became aware of was the warmth, and then the feel of some slimy, quasi-liquid pressing in all around him, covering him from head to toe, and a few other places in between that Ryan really wasn’t too eager to think about. Snapping back into full awareness about a minute after he’d made that little realization, Ryan began to thrash around in the slime.

Whatever it was that he was stuck inside of was pitch black, and at the moment all that Ryan could think of was how much he wanted the hell _out_ of there. His flailing fingers caught on a ridge, and the action was unexpected enough that Ryan stopped thrashing and started to feel along the seam. It really did feel big enough to stick his fingers in. There was also a chance that he would be able to open it, if he could just get a good hold on that edge.

Working the fingers of both hands into the seam, Ryan started to try and pry open the thing that was holding him prisoner. Growling and just managing to keep himself from swearing at the uncooperative Whatsis, Ryan started putting more force into his arms. Ryan knew that he basically had no leverage, since he was currently lying on his side with no way at all to stand up, but Ryan was determined to get out of this dark and slimy thing even if it took him all day.

Finally, after who knew how long, Ryan started to see some kind of light shining in through a crack that he had managed to open. He didn’t know just what kind of light it was—daylight or something else —but at the moment Ryan was too glad not to be confined completely to the pitch black sliminess that he’d woken up in to care much about the quality of the light. Time would tell if Ryan would have any cause to regret that.

Pushing outward with all of his strength again, having taken a rest to catch his breath after seeing the crack of light, Ryan took no notice of the soft pulsing in the region of his shoulder blades. He did notice it when the thing he was struggling to open suddenly started opening much more easily, though. When he had opened the thing holding him by about six inches, Ryan noticed that there was a thin, filmy membrane further separating him from the outside world.

Without a second of hesitation, Ryan tore through the membrane with his fingernails. Turning around in the slime that still clung to his body, Ryan twisted his legs until they were directly underneath his body, grabbed the open part of the slimy, coffin-like thing, and _heaved_. The thing came open much more easily. Pulling his legs out of the slime, which he noticed was still warm when it was inside the container-thing, Ryan braced his feet against the edge and pushed.

Once it had opened as far as Ryan was sure it was going to, he noticed the other guy who was lying in the slime. He was mostly covered by another part of the container-thing that was still closed, and he was also still stuck under the membrane. Huffing in slight annoyance, Ryan pulled open the membrane and grabbed the guy’s arms and started pulling.

The slime, though it _was_ nice and warm, was also thick and nasty. It clung to everything, making it incredibly had for Ryan to even move. Growling, Ryan stuck his feet back into the slime and stood up, then leaned back, pulling the other guy along with him as he moved. Ryan managed to budge him about an inch.

Rolling his eyes and muttering various curse words—some of them in Spanish—Ryan turned around, still wading hip-deep in the slime, grabbed the other guy’s arms again, and started pulling again. Now that his feet were better able to push against the bottom of the container-thing, Ryan found that it was easier to move the other guy.

With a particularly unpleasant half-sucking, half-popping sound, the guy Ryan had been trying to pull out of the slime came free, rather more violently than Ryan himself had been counting on. Rubbing his stomach where it had slammed into the closed part of the container-thing, Ryan swore softly.

"I really hope you’re worth me getting bruises on my internal organs, guy," Ryan grumbled, sighing in annoyance.

Slogging back through the thick slime, Ryan hoisted the other guy up on his back and started for the edge of the container-thing again, dragging the other guy over to the side of the greenish thing and trying to ignore the squelching noises. Ryan unwrapped his right arm from around the black-haired boy, grabbed him under both arms with little regard for any discomfort the other might have been experiencing, and hauled them both up to stand on the top of the greenish container-thing.

Once he had managed to get them both all the way out of the slime, Ryan took a chance to look around. What he saw surprised him, even after all the weird things he’d been exposed to.

"Hey, I remember this place," Ryan muttered, looking around at the huge towers of rock. "This is the Garden of the Gods. How did I end up all the way out here? Last thing I remember, I was in a hospital somewhere. I don’t suppose _you’d_ know anything about that," Ryan said, then he chuckled.

Here he was, trying to get answers from an unconscious guy. _I must be nuts,_ Ryan mused. Then, shaking his head in weary amusement, Ryan stepped down out of the greenish container-thing and stood on solid ground again. He didn’t know just how far he had gone since being knocked out in the hospital in Colorado; he didn’t know that he had been transported halfway around the world in the absence of his consciousness. All that Ryan knew was that he was currently standing in the Garden of the Gods without a single thing on and with some guy he didn’t even know hanging on his back.

"Well, fuck," Ryan muttered, wondering just how he was going to get home with the shape he was in.

That was when fortune, this time in the form of Sho Fukamachi, decided to deal him a better hand.

XxXxX

 Sho, slowly struggling back to consciousness after being asleep for he didn’t know how long, opened his eyes and found himself staring at a bright red blur. As his vision slowly cleared, Sho realized that the blur was in fact the back of someone’s head. Since Sho didn’t have any friends with bright red hair, he was instinctively wary of this new person. However, in direct contrast to this feeling of wariness, there was the slight inclination to trust this new person.

In the end, Sho didn’t know what to think.

Then, as his vision cleared a bit further, Sho finally noticed that the person he had been staring at had the boost-stimulus tissue that all Guyvers had on their backs. Sho was dumbfounded—he had thought that there were only three Guyvers anywhere on Earth. That was what Lisker had told him, and then Agito and Professor Odagiri had confirmed that. There was just no way that this new person could be a Guyver.

And yet, that was just what all of his senses seemed to be telling him. Sho was completely confused, but then he decided to try and communicate with this new Guyver. Sho only hoped that he wasn’t anything like Lisker. Sho didn’t want to try and fight another Guyver, even with all that he had learned about their powers as such.

_ +Hello?+ _

Sho heard the other Guyver’s surprised yelp and quickly wrapped his arms around the unknown boy’s waist to keep himself from hitting the ground face-first. That was when he noticed the strange, organic-looking cocoon sitting on the ground beneath them. Sho could see that the red-haired boy was still standing in the fluid that was inside the cocoon, though now he could also see that the boy was completely naked.

Sho looked down at himself, finally noticing that he was, too. The Guyver with red hair asked something then, or at least that was the impression that Sho got judging from the slight lilt at the end of his sentence. When he turned around, Sho let go of his waist and sat down in the fluid. The boy with the red hair turned to look at him, and it was only then that Sho noticed his green eyes.

He asked something else in that unfamiliar language, which Sho was now starting to recognize as English. True, he’d had to study English in school, but that had been a long time ago, and Sho had forgotten a lot of the lessons. Not that they would have been of that much help, though, since the school hadn’t really been teaching conversational English.

"I’m sorry, but I don’t understand anything you’re saying," Sho said, craning his neck to look up at the English-speaking redhead.


	21. Coming Home

The boy groaned, probably in frustration, given the expression on his face and the way he scrubbed at it with both hands. Then he gracelessly plopped himself down in front of Sho and just stared for a minute.

_ +If you want to talk, I’ll listen.+ _

The look of abject, stunned surprise on the other boy’s face gave Sho an idea of exactly how much explaining he was going to have to do for the other boy’s benefit. Trying to think about what Agito had told him during the first battle with the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five, Sho managed to remember what Agito had said when it had been him in almost the same situation.

_ +We Guyvers can communicate telepathically through the organisms on our backs,+ _ Sho stated for the red-haired boy’s benefit. Seeing that the expression on the boy’s face had become one of startled puzzlement, Sho decided that he would explain in more detail. _+You should be able to communicate with me if you concentrate. We’re linked through our Guyver units, after all.+_

_ +You mean you can hear this?+ _

_ +Yes, I can hear you,+  _ Sho said, trying to be reassuring.

_ +Oh, good. That means I’m not going insane.+ _

_ +No, you’re definitely not going insane, though there might be times you’ll wish you were.+ _

Even though he’d been trying to keep any of his own emotions from showing, Sho still found that his sadness was somehow projected along with his words. The sympathetic look on the red-haired boy’s face clinched it in Sho’s mind.

_ +How bad was it for you?+ _

_ +Bad. And please—don’t ask me anything more about it,+ _ Sho pleaded.

_ +Don’t worry. Hey, what’s your name, anyway? I can’t just go calling you ‘hey you’ when we finally learn to speak the same language.+ _

_ +My name is Sho Fukamachi. What’s yours?+ _

_ +I’m Ryan Crouger. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Nightmare on Elm Street, have you?+ _

_ +No, I haven’t,+  _ Sho said, confused.

_ +Good. I hate that old joke.+ _

Sho, not knowing exactly how to respond to the red-haired boy’s – to Ryan’s – words, decided to change the subject. _+How did you find the Guyver, anyway? I thought there were only three.+_

_ +I don’t know anything about that, but I found this big dartboard-looking thing in a cave. I just dropped in and, well, there it was.+ _

_ +You touched it, didn’t you?+ _ Sho said, his mental tone rueful.

_ +Well, I would have had to, since I ended up like this,+  _ Ryan said, winking a bright green eye.

_ +I guess you would have,+ _ Sho said, nodding and chuckling a bit himself.

_ +Well, that takes care of the introductions,+  _ Ryan said, tilting his head and smiling at Sho. _+Now there’s only the problem of getting out of here with no clothes, no shoes, and no one knowing where we are.+_

_ +Where are we, exactly?+ _

_ +We,+  _ Ryan said with a dramatic sweep of his arm, _+are currently sitting somewhere in the Garden of the Gods. Completely naked, of course, and up to our waists in some kind of slimy ooze—either that, or some kind of oozy slime; I haven’t quite managed to figure out the distinction yet.+_

The tone of Ryan’s voice was at odds with the just-waiting-to-grin expression that was breaking out on his face. Sho found himself laughing in spite of the previously stated seriousness of their situation. When he’d finally managed to regain his composure—not an easy thing when sitting naked in slime—Sho decided to try and see if the two of them might be able to get a handle on the situation.

_ +What do you think we should do?+ _

_ +You’re asking me? Me, the guy who doesn’t even know what a Guyver is? Okay; I have no idea.+ _

Sho chuckled. _+I guess it wasn’t the best idea. Well, I guess I’ll have to think of something, then.+_

Ryan, whom Sho noticed was starting to look a bit tired, shifted so that he could lean against the side of the cocoon that they both sat in. Looking closer at the cocoon, Sho found that it looked a lot like the Relic. Even the slime, as annoying as it was, was kind of similar to what had been inside the Relic. _Maybe this cocoon was originally a part of the Relic. It would explain a few things, I guess; still, the last thing I remember was being disintegrated by that Zoalord._

Sho shuddered as he remembered the feeling of his own skin being charred and vaporized. Of course, it hadn’t really been _his_ skin: it had been the Guyver’s, but he _was_ the Guyver, so it really _had_ been his skin at the time. All of these thoughts, though, were just a distraction from something else. Something, or rather, someone, that Sho really didn’t want to think about.

Mr. Murakami. Mr. Murakami was dead.

Even the thought of it wasn’t something that Sho could stand for very long, and he shied away as if the merest reminder was painful to him. The worst part of it was that he hadn’t even been there for Mr. Murakami when he died. The only thing that he had been able to do was to hold his body. Even then, he hadn’t been able to do that for very long—not with all of the Zoalords attacking him.

Sho hated the fact that he hadn’t even been able to say goodbye, and also that he hadn’t been able to recover Mr. Murakami’s body. Sho knew Mr. Murakami well enough to know that he wouldn’t have wanted his body to stay in any place that Chronos had control over. Sho knew that it was too late for him to do anything about that, but he still found himself hoping that nothing had happened to Mr. Murakami’s body. Even though there wasn’t anything he could have done, Sho still thought that he should have helped Mr. Murakami somehow.

Still, now wasn’t the time to think about things that he couldn’t change. Seeing Ryan, dozing while he leaned on the edge of what Sho found himself thinking of as the Relic’s cocoon, reminded Sho that he had other things to think about.

_ +Ryan, you said we were in the Garden of the Gods, right?+ _

_ +That’s what I said.+ _

_ +Where is that, exactly?+ _

_ +It’s just outside of Colorado Springs, my hometown. I always wished I could come out here when I have a bad day, but this place really isn’t within walking distance of my house. I really never imagined I’d be stuck out here naked with another guy, though.+ _

Ryan chuckled, and Sho found himself smiling as well. The situation did have its elements of humor, but there was still the matter of getting out of this place, even as beautiful as it was. They were out in the open, vulnerable to any Zoanoid that might come across them. Even if they were Guyvers, an army of Zoanoids would eventually overwhelm even them. Sho wanted to be somewhere… else—somewhere safe, at least for the time being. As Sho concentrated harder, his eyes slipped closed almost of their own volition, so he missed the fact that Ryan’s eyes fluttered and closed only half a minute later. As Sho wondered where he would ever manage to find a place where they would both be safe from Chronos even for a short time, he started to feel a gentle pulsing coming from the region of his shoulders. It almost felt like his Guyver was responding to something.

After what seemed like about fifteen minutes or thereabouts, Sho felt the pulsing in his shoulders lessen from a dull throb to a barely noticeable tingle and then fade away to nothing. Opening his eyes, Sho found that they were no longer in the Garden of the Gods. In fact, they weren’t even outside anymore. Instead, they were inside a building.

The place where they now sat looked very comfortable, if a little bit too cluttered for Sho’s taste. The overstuffed chairs and couch, combined with the warm, almost buttery colors of the drapery, carpet, and walls only added to the feeling of calmness that Sho got from the place. Still, Sho knew not to trust appearances anymore.

_ +Just how in the heck did we end up here?+ _

_ +Ryan? You know this place?+ _

_ +I’d have to be pretty dense not to, considering that this is my living room and all.+ _

_ +We’re in your house?+ _

_ +That’s about the long and the short of it, yeah.+ _

Sho noticed then that Ryan was starting to climb out of the Relic cocoon, scraping some of the excess slime off his feet by rubbing them against the edges Sho turned away, looking around at the room where he had somehow ended up. Noticing that Ryan had left the room, Sho climbed up and out of the Relic cocoon as well. Now that he wasn’t so focused on the potential problem of Zoanoids coming to find them, Sho found himself really noticing the sticky slime that coated him almost from head to toe.

It wasn’t a feeling that Sho enjoyed.


	22. Hospitality

+Ryan, where did you go?+

_ +I’m taking a shower, then I’m going to stop off at my room and get some clothes. You look like you’d be able to fit in some of mine, Sho. Want to borrow some?+ _

_ +I… thank you, Ryan. That’s very generous of you.+ _

_ +No problem. It can’t be easy to deal with this kind of thing, so I figured we could help each other deal.+ _

_ +Thank you,+ _ Sho repeated, not quite sure what else to say right then.

As Sho climbed up and out of the Relic cocoon, he made sure to scrape the excess slime off of his feet. The thick carpet was soft under his feet, and Sho wiggled his toes to get a better feel of it.

_ +Mom always had a thing for shag carpet.+ _

Sho turned slightly, looking at Ryan. The other Guyver was clad in a pale blue bathrobe, and Sho noticed that his hair looked a great deal messier than it had before.

_ +I pulled out some extra towels for you, so you can go take a shower if you want.+ _

_ +Thank you, Ryan. Where is your shower?+ _

_ +It’s down the hall, second door on the left. The third one’s my room; I’ll be in there if you need me.+ _

Sho nodded as Ryan walked away, following the directions that the other Guyver had given him. Sho counted the doors, finding his way to the bathroom quickly and opening the door. The showerhead drew his attention first, and for a moment he wondered where the furo was. Ryan hadn’t told him about that, but then again he hadn’t really asked. Something that big would probably be very easy to find, though.

Walking over to what was obviously the shower, Sho was surprised to see that there was a sunken tub in the room—an _empty_ tub, and he wondered who would have though to put a shower inside a tub in the first place. It was a strange design in general, but since he really wanted to take a shower, Sho decided that he would just ignore the differences and take his shower.

Wincing slightly as his bare feet touched the cold porcelain, Sho walked up to the taps and turned on the hot water. As the spray touched him, Sho winced again. He wondered how Ryan could stand taking showers with the water this hot. Ducking out from under the almost scalding spray, Sho adjusted the cold tap until the water was comfortable enough for him to stand under. Looking around, Sho found some bars of soap and a bottle of what looked like shampoo.

Picking up the soap, Sho began to wash up.

XxXxX

Ryan yawned, kicking off his slippers as he lounged on his bed. His entire body felt like freshly tenderized steak, so Ryan knew that he wasn’t going to go anywhere soon. Just as his eyes closed, Ryan heard his door opening.

_ +Hey, Sho. Did you find everything all right?+ _

_ +I did. Thank you, Ryan. I think your shampoo made my scalp itch, though.+ _

_ +Huh; it’s never done that to me before. Are you sure you got the right bottle?+ _

_ +Well, it was the one in the white bottle on the rim of the bathtub.+ _

_ +White bottle on the…? Wait, you didn’t actually use that on your hair, did you?+ _

_ +Wasn’t I supposed to?+ _

_ +No! Geez, no wonder you’re itching; you just washed your hair with my liquid soap!+  _ Ryan giggled a little. _+Go wash your hair again, Sho; you’re going to be itching all day if you don’t. And use one of the bottles on the shelf this time, ya doof.+_

_ +I’ll do that; thank you Ryan.+ _

_ +Not a problem,+  _ Ryan said, turning over and curling up in his bed again. He could faintly hear the sound of water running, since Sho had left his door open and he didn’t have any music on at the moment. When the water turned off, Ryan listened for the sound of his door opening. That would let him know that Sho was back.

XxXxX

As Sho, having just dried his hair for the second time with the towel that Ryan had provided for him, made his way back to Ryan’s room, he noticed that he was starting to get a bit tired himself. It probably had something to do with how long he had spent inside that strange cocoon, or maybe it was from having somehow pulled Ryan into the cocoon with him. Sho could just barely remember his time spent there, but he could recall at least a few things.

One of them was the impression of someone, most likely Ryan himself, being in some kind of danger. Sho had wanted to do something; he could remember at least that much, and then all he could remember was waking up next to Ryan in the Garden of the Gods. When he reached Ryan’s room again, Sho thought Ryan had fallen asleep, so he was surprised to hear the other Guyver’s voice over their link.

_ +Make sure you close my door this time, all right, Sho?+ _

_ +All right, Ryan.+ _

Sho gently closed Ryan’s door, pulling it until he heard the latch click. Walking over to the bed where Ryan lay sleeping, he wondered for a moment if he should wake the other Guyver to ask if he could take a nap on his bed, but then, Ryan _had_ been willing to share his house and the things within it, so maybe the red-haired boy wouldn’t mind so much if Sho took a nap next to him.

At least, Sho hoped that was true.

When he came up to the bed, though, he noticed that there was something white sticking out from under Ryan’s bed. Crouching to pick it up, he saw that it was an empty water bottle. _Why would Ryan have an empty water bottle under his bed?_ Kneeling down so he could take a look under the other Guyver’s bed, Sho found that the water bottle wasn’t the only thing that the red-haired boy had under there: there were also a couple books, as well as two more empty water bottles. Sho took all of these out from under the bed. Looking around for something to put them on so that they would be out of Ryan’s way but still easy to find, Sho set them down on the chair that he found by Ryan’s desk. Then, as another wave of tiredness hit him, he lay down on the bed opposite Ryan, pulled up the covers, and fell asleep.


	23. Hunting a Mystery

The scans had finally located the Relic cocoon—at least, that was what Lord Hamilcal had told him when he had been deployed to this nondescript neighborhood in the Colorado Springs area. As Imakarum, leading a group of six Standard Zoanoids, approached the location that they’d been given, the Twelfth Zoalord wondered again just how and why the Relic cocoon had appeared inside a suburban home.

That was what he and his group were currently approaching: a fairly large and well-kept suburban dwelling. He could already sense that there were no humans in the front room, which was where Lord Hamilcal had detected the two energy surges from the Relic cocoon. What the purpose of those surges was, exactly, aside from being concurrent with the cocoon’s disappearance from the Dead Sea Plant, was what Imakarum and his Zoanoids had been dispatched to ascertain.

Reaching the door, Imakarum settled his hand against the doorknob and pushed, shattering the latch. Walking into the house, the Twelfth Zoalord was confronted by two separate and distinctly annoying things: the first was the fact that the Relic cocoon was nowhere to be found; the second was the dog barking loudly at him. The animal was fairly large, vaguely wolflike in appearance, and making a rather large nuisance of itself. Therefore, he felt no remorse for using his telekinesis to slam it against the wall of the main room until it fell silent, though if he had known just how that action would affect his chances of recapturing the Fifth Guyver, he might have reconsidered.

XxXxX

It was Raider’s barking that woke him up first; the Husky sounded like he was being menaced by an entire army of strangers. Probably another damn squirrel had gotten in though the basement. Those things were a menace. Ryan was just about to flop back into bed and try to fall asleep again when he heard five loud thumps. Then Raider fell silent. Ryan woke up instantly, like someone had jammed a cattle prod into his back.

Turning to Sho, Ryan shook the other boy awake a bit more forcefully than he would have if he hadn’t been so worried about his dog.

_ +What is it, Ryan?+ _

_ +I think there’s someone in the house. Listen.+ _

Ryan watched as Sho turned toward the door, and then the other boy tensed up suddenly. Wondering what was going on, Ryan was a bit more surprised by what Sho said next.

_ +Zoanoids!+ _

_ +What?+ _

_ +There are Zoanoids here! We have to get out, now!+ _

_ +What the hell are Zoanoids?+ _

_ +There’s no time! We have to get out here, right now!+ _

Sho was practically in hysterics by now, but in a calm kind of way that didn’t involve yelling and running around. Sho’s brand of hysterics was more the kind of twitchy, paranoid, I’m-just-about-to- _crack_ kind of thing that Ryan had seen in his dad a few times.

_ +All right, come on. Follow me.+ _

Pulling Sho over to the shelves that Dad had installed in his closet, Ryan started up. Heading for the trapdoor in the ceiling—the one that his dad never seemed to get around to nailing shut like he said he would—Ryan climbed quickly.

_ +What are you doing, Ryan?+ _

_ +You’re the one who said we needed to get out of here fast,+ _ Ryan pointed out reasonably. _+This is the fastest way you’re going to find.+_

_ +What are you talking about?+ _

_ +Let’s just say that there are some serious advantages to design flaws.+ _

Sho looked at him weirdly as Ryan scaled the shelves.

_ +Don’t worry, these things’ll definitely hold your weight. When Dad bolts things into the wall, he doesn’t mess around.+ _

_ +How is this going to help us get out without the Zoanoids spotting us?+ _

_ +We’re going through the attic; that’ll keep those Zoanoid-whatevers from being able to see us. Hell, they won’t even know we’re here.+ _

_ +All right, Ryan. I trust your judgment.+ _

_ +Thanks.+ _

As the two of them scaled the mostly unused shelves, Ryan brushed the ceiling with his fingertips, prepping himself to shove open the trapdoor when the time came. After six more steps on his part, that time had finally come. Shoving the trapdoor up and out of his way, Ryan caught the edge before it could slam into the attic floor. If what Sho was saying was true, and the guy did honestly look freaked-out enough that Ryan was willing to believe him, then any loud sounds would give them away.

Climbing up all the way into the attic, Ryan turned around and helped Sho to climb up the rest of the way. Once Sho was inside, Ryan gently closed the trapdoor and led Sho across the room to another trapdoor. This one, however, came fully equipped with a flight of stairs – or a rudimentary ladder, depending on how one looked at things – built in. Ryan carefully unlatched the second trapdoor and let it down slowly.

_ +Where are we now, Ryan?+ _

_ +We’re in the hall, just outside the kitchen now. We’ll be able to get to the garage a lot quicker than if we’d gone the long way.+ _

_ +What’s in the garage?+ _

_ +My dirtbike; I figure we’ve got a better chance of getting away from those Zoanoids of yours if we’re on wheels.+ _

_ +Oh; I hadn’t thought of that.+  _ Sho still seemed a bit worried, though. _+Are you sure we’re going to be able to make it our of here without any of the Zoanoids hearing us, though?+_

_ +You sensed them when they were near my room, and the kitchen’s practically on the other side of the house. We’ll be fine.+ _

That seemed to calm Sho down a bit, though Ryan wasn’t sure if what he had just said was true or not. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Sho freaking out on him, though, so Ryan didn’t say anything else. Now at the bottom of the ladder, Ryan checked the hallway in front and behind to make sure it was clear of those Zoa-things Sho seemed so eager to avoid. It wasn’t as if he knew exactly what to look for, so Ryan was just making sure that the way to the kitchen was empty.

As far as he could see, and, to a certain extent, hear, it was, so he and Sho made their way to the kitchen with Ryan in the lead since he was the one who knew where they were going. Once they had made it to the kitchen, Ryan stole a glance inside before he led Sho to the door at the front of the large room.

_ +You still getting those bad vibes you told me about?+ _

_ +What?+ _

_ +Are there still Zoanoids in the house with us, or can we head back to bed?+ _

_ +Oh. Yes, the Zoanoids are still here, Ryan. They’re a bit harder to sense than they were before, which I think means they’re farther away.+ _

_ +Well, let’s be grateful for small favors, then,+ _ Ryan said, grinning. _+And let’s also get the hell out of here before any of them gets the bright idea to come in here after us.+_

Taking Sho’s silence for the agreement that it was, Ryan led the other boy across the kitchen floor to the door that would let them into the attached garage. Ryan was just glad that neither of his parents were in the house at the moment, ‘cause he’d never have been able to explain _this_. Walking quietly when they were barefoot on the linoleum floor wasn’t all too difficult for Ryan since he’d done it a few times before, but wordlessly teaching Sho that same skill more than made up for the relative lack of difficulty there.

Finally reaching the door into the garage, Ryan opened it as quietly as he could, let Sho inside, and then closed it just as quietly behind them.


	24. Friend into Enemy

_ +How good are those Zoanoids you mentioned at hearing things?+ _

_ +Very good,+  _ Sho said. _+All of their senses are enhanced, so it’s hard to deal with them sometimes.+_

_ +Great. That’ll make things interesting, at least.+ _

_ +What are you talking about, Ryan?+ _

_ +I don’t think there’s any way to quietly open a garage door, and I  _ know _there isn’t any way to quietly start up a dirtbike. The thing’s almost as loud as a motorcycle, in case you didn’t know,+_ Ryan said matter-of-factly.

_ +Oh. Are you sure we should be using it, then?+ _

_ +It may be loud, but it’s also the fastest way to get out of here before those Zoanoids you talked about come looking for us again.+ _

_ +All right, then,+  _ Sho said, nodding and accepting the logic of Ryan’s argument.

_ +Get on and hold tight.+ _

So saying, Ryan threw his right leg over the body of his dirtbike, raised the remote that would open the garage door that stood in front of him, and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. If those Zoanoid things really did have enhanced senses like Sho’d said, then this was going to require some serious split-second timing on his part. Pressing down the single button on the garage-door opener, Ryan waited just long enough for the door to open a full three feet, then twisted the throttle open and roared across the empty garage.

_ +Sho, lean left.+ _

_ +When?+ _

_ +Now!+ _

With the combined weight of both teens, Ryan’s small dirtbike tipped in record time, forcing Ryan to compensate quickly or risk having the bike fall over entirely. _Note to self, this thing’s a lot more tricky with two people on it. +Hey Sho, you all right back there?+_

_ +Yes, Ryan, I’m fine, but I don’t think I want to do that again.+ _

_ +I’ll second that.+ _

As they raced out of sight of his house, passed the last one on the block, and turned the corner, Ryan was already thinking of places that he and Sho could hide out in to avoid being spotted by those Zoa-things.

XxXxX

The sound of gears grinding had been what had originally disturbed Imakarum Mirabilis from his contemplation, but the unmistakable sound of a revving engine was what made the Twelfth Zoalord turn and pay attention.

"Go bring me whoever is attempting to leave this place," Imakarum ordered. "I wish to speak with them."

Imakarum had not been expecting anyone to actually be inside this house at this time of day, especially since neither the winter nor the summer school holidays were in effect. Of course, there was always the chance that this new player in their game was home-schooled, but Imakarum personally doubted that that would be the case. It was odd to consider the possibility that whoever had been inside the building might have seen the Relic cocoon, but then perhaps that was why they had left so quickly.

In Imakarum’s experience, humans were not particularly well equipped to deal with things that were so far removed from their meager knowledge—things like the Guyver, or the Relic cocoon. If there had been a human involved in the disappearance of the Relic cocoon, in whatever minor capacity a mere human could have been involved in such things, then Imakarum would find them and deal with them—after he had extracted whatever useful information their tiny minds possessed, of course.

"Your Excellency," the first of his returning Zoanoids, a Chaltu, said breathlessly, "the others have gone out to catch the human that you heard escaping on that motorcycle, but they were unable to do so."

"Why is _that_?" Imakarum demanded. "There are no humans in this area to see you in these forms; even if there _were_ humans in the area, you would have very little trouble dealing with them."

"Th-the others thought i-it would be better to get approval from Lord Amniculus before making any further movements in this area," the Chaltu said, noticeably failing to meet Imakarum’s eyes.

For his part, Imakarum was gratified to know that the reason that his Zoanoids had broken off pursuit of the human had been due to their desire to preserve the secrets of Chronos and their respect for the chain of command. He would have had to kill them if their lack of success had been due to their own stupidity, and requesting a new contingent of Zoanoids at this point would have been rather bothersome.

"I will contact Lord Shin presently," Imakarum stated flatly. "Thank you for being so conscientious."

"Yes, milord," the Chaltu said, bowing its head in subservient respect.

Imakarum turned away, leaving the Zoanoid with orders to gather the others of its kind and await further orders from him. _-Lord Shin.-_

_ -Yes? What is it, Imakarum?- _

_ -The Relic cocoon has not been located as yet, though there was a human in the area where Lord Hamilcal traced the energy signature of its teleportation. I sent out a group of Zoanoids to pursue, but the human has left this area and escaped into an occupied neighborhood.- _

_ -That is rather unfortunate, Imakarum. I will see to it that no unprocessed humans are in the way of your progress. You are currently in the northeast section of the Colorado Springs area, correct?- _

_ -Yes. That is correct, Lord Shin. I will be in contact with you once my task has been completed, Lord Shin.- _

_ -Most commendable, Imakarum; I will await your report.- _

Cutting the mental tether that tied him to the Fourth Zoalord, Imakarum turned his attention back to the mission he was now occupied with. Rejoining his Zoanoids, who were now gathered in the main room of the house after returning Returned from their pursuit, Imakarum looked them over as he prepared to send them out once again.

That human was _not_ going to escape him again.

XxXxX

Ryan was heading almost instinctively for the mall; it was large, crowded, and the expected place for teenagers like him and Sho to hang out. It was sometimes hard for him, what with his bright red hair that he had inherited from his dad, to blend into the crowds at the mall, but then the challenge was part of what made things so interesting. Sho was going to be a bit harder to hide, since he was so obviously not from around the area, but maybe if he could snag a pair of sunglasses, that would take care of that particular problem.

It was something to keep in mind while he tried to keep those Zoanoid things that Sho had mentioned off their tails when they finally stopped moving. They’d need a plan, too, if they were going to keep from getting caught by those Zoanoids, which he needed to discuss with Sho. But all of that could wait until they made it to somewhere more solid than the roads. Somewhere they could actually sit and talk without having to worry about watching out for traffic.

Somewhere that he could get something to eat, preferably.

The sound of a truck engine, somewhat audible over the roar of his dirtbike, had Ryan glancing at the mirror on his left-hand side. Sure enough, a large white truck was coming his way. Maneuvering his bike over to the right shoulder of the road to give the truck room to pass, Ryan shifted his attention back to his driving. When the truck pulled up alongside him, Ryan continued to keep his mind on where he was actually going. He’d found that that was always the best thing to do when you were on the street.

It wasn’t really like he had anything to worry about—the thing was just your average, everyday transport truck. It was probably carrying fruit or something.

His stomach’s insistent growling reminded Ryan of just why it wasn’t such a hot idea for him to be thinking of food at the moment. So, definitely the mall; at least he’d be able to get a snack there, if nothing else. He’d checked for funds when he’d first put on the pants that he was wearing, and he had at least $20 in fives stashed in his right pocket. Ryan knew that that would be enough to get him and Sho a decent meal, at least.

The blast of an air horn alerted Ryan that there was another truck coming up beside him, the first one having disappeared to parts unknown a few minutes ago. Pulling over onto the shoulder again, Ryan waited for this new truck to pass him by as well. When the loud blast of the air horn came again, more prolonged this time, Ryan turned and looked at the truck coming up behind him. It had more than enough room on his left to pass, so he didn’t know what the cretin driver was complaining about.

When a third blast from the truck’s horn split the air, Ryan turned a withering look on the moron driving the truck. He was tempted to yell at whoever the hell was driving that behemoth, but there wasn’t any point in wasting breath on some guy who was both too stupid to even realize what he was doing, and who wouldn’t have heard him over the noise of the road anyway.

_ +Ryan! Look out!+ _

_ +What’s with you?+ _

_ +That’s a Chronos truck; it’s carrying Zoanoids, I know it is. We need to get out of here, now!+ _

_ +Well, when you put it like that…+ _

Cranking the handlebars of his bike hard to the right, Ryan managed to turn it around just before the truck would have slammed into him. Checking his mirror, Ryan watched as the truck tried to mimic his turn with the same kind of speed he’d just demonstrated. Since it was carrying a hell of a lot more weight than his little dirtbike, Ryan was pretty much expecting the truck to tip over. Maybe it wouldn’t roll over entirely like in the movies but it probably _would_ end up on its side.

Surprisingly enough, the tight turn _didn’t_ cause the truck to spin out and crash; sure, it had tilted pretty severely, but somehow the driver managed to right his truck just as it had started to reach the tipping point. How he did that, Ryan was sure he’d never know. Still, the fact remained that the guy had somehow managed to keep his truck from tipping, and now he was trying to run them over again.

He could do it, too, given the fact that his big-ass truck had a lot more mass and weight than Ryan’s little dirtbike. There were two things that he had going for him, though: speed and maneuverability. And Ryan fully intended to milk those two assets for all they were worth at the moment.

Ryan was just starting to think about how best to lose his unwanted pursuer when the truck blew its horn and accelerated toward him like the fucking unstoppable Juggernaut. Ryan chuckled mordantly: if he’d really been facing the Juggernaut, he and Sho would have already been dead by now.


	25. Baptism of Fire

Watching as the truck grew larger in his field of vision, Ryan turned just a split-second before the front end of the truck would have scraped the front end of his bike. The truck passed close enough to his right that he could have reached out and touched it if he’d been so inclined. Not wanting to have his fingertips cut off, Ryan didn’t bother trying to test that little hypothesis.

When he heard the unmistakable sound of grinding, shifting gears coming from behind him, Ryan glanced in his left rear-view mirror. Sure enough, there was the truck again, just starting a slow turn and coming back around for him.

_ +Don’t these fuckers know when to give up?!+ _

_ +No. They never give up. I’ve been fighting them for about a year now, and they just keep coming. They don’t give up, believe me.+ _

_ +Sounds like something personal.+ _

_ +It is. And please, don’t ask me anything more about it.+ _

_ +I’ll keep that in mind. Just remember: I’m here if you ever decide you  _ do _want to talk about things.+_

_ +Thank you, Ryan. I’ll make sure to remember that.+ _

_ +Good. Oh, and Sho?+ _

_ +Yes?+ _

_ +I want you to lean back as far as you can in about seven seconds.+ _

_ +What? Why?+ _

_ +Because there’s a car just about to hit us.+ _

_ +What?!+ _

Ryan, grinning slightly insanely as he saw the car bearing down on them, had decided that the best way to get that damned truck off their backs was to put something almost the same size between the two vehicles. The guy in the car was shouting abuse at him, and if Ryan had cared he might have taken the time to yell some of his own.

_ +Sho. Lean. Now!+ _

Not waiting for Sho’s acknowledgment, since he knew that his passenger would do what he wanted – either before or after Ryan’s head slammed into his nose – Ryan lunged backwards. As the bike’s forward wheel started tipping skyward, Ryan felt Sho leaning back behind him. Ryan just hoped that his luck was going to hold out, since this crazy little move was going to take a lot of it.

Good luck and good timing—the same as most of his more audacious stunts had taken. Not to mention good planning, but that wasn’t so much a factor here as it had been when he’d ~~he’s~~ actually had the time to make a plan. Lunging forward when his front wheel had cleared the hood of the car, Ryan rode up and over the windshield, across the roof, and down off the trunk. Laughing, slightly insanely, slightly triumphantly, Ryan twisted his throttle open and roared off, confident that he’d made good his escape.

That confidence lasted until he heard the loudest, most aggressively unpleasant crashing noise that he’d ever heard. Even the ones in _Speed_ had nothing on this. Turning to look behind him, Ryan saw that the car he’d leapt over was now a twisted wreck.

"Well _that_ ain’t good," Ryan muttered, already starting to search for some other way to get the nutbars in the truck off his back.

It was going to be one hell of a challenge to find something that would be able to keep those guys away when they were willing to ram a car out of their way just to get to him and Sho. But maybe finding something bigger to stick in between the two vehicles wasn’t quite the way to go. Maybe it wasn’t a bigger obstacle he needed to put between him and the truck, but a lot more distance.

Looking around, Ryan smiled slightly; he was just coming up on one of the rare overpasses in this part of the city. With a little doing and a whole lot of luck, it probably would be possible to put enough distance between himself and his unwanted pursuers to make them give up chasing him entirely. Sho’d said that these Chronos types didn’t give up, but then they’d probably never met anyone like him before.

Just as they made it to the middle of the overpass, Ryan spotted the car. It had a nice, shiny white paintjob, which meant that the owner probably wasn’t going to be happy with him for doing what he was about to. But then, he didn’t know the owner, and the fact that there was a huge truck bearing down with the intent to crush him and Sho into bloody paste with metal bits made it really hard for Ryan to even pretend to care about something like that.

Popping another wheelie and narrowly avoiding smacking Sho in the face with the back of his head, Ryan rode diagonally over the hood of the car and flew over the railing of the overpass.

_ +Okay, I’m gonna need you to work with me, Sho. When we hit the street, you’re going to have to help me get this thing’s balance back.+ _

_ +Ryan…! I mean- you just-!+ _

_ +Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’ve seen this in the movies.+ _

_ +Ryan, you can’t-+ _

_ +Look, are you going to help me with this or not?+ _

_ +I will,+  _ Sho said, still sounding a bit shaken.

_ +Good, now lean in the opposite direction.+ _

_ +Right.+ _

When the dirtbike slammed into the roadway, Ryan and Sho both worked in tandem to right it again. Knowing that it would be easier for the guys in the truck to find him if he came right out the other side of the overpass, Ryan turned a sharp U and shot out from under the _opposite_ side. Since they’d no doubt be looking for him to come out on the right, where he’d jumped off the overpass, they’d probably get a fair distance into the city before they managed to realize that he’d done no such thing.

XxXxX

"I don’t _believe_ this!" Delcasse snarled, slamming on the brakes so hard that for a second Razell was half afraid that his foot would punch a hole in the truck’s floor. "Jumping the car was crazy enough, but _that?!_ "

"Calm down, D. We’ll call some of the others, and they’ll help us catch up to that little stuntman wannabe," Razell said, trying to calm down his fellow Zoanoid. "I’d better report in to His Excellency and call for some backup."

Hearing Delcasse’s grumbled agreement, in addition to some grumbled obscenities, Razell turned to the comm setup on the dashboard. "This is Razell, reporting in, Your Excellency."

"What is it, Razell?" The deep voice of Lord Imakarum Mirabilis echoed back over the comm.

"We’re still in pursuit of the escaped human, Your Excellency, but you’re not going to believe what he just did."

"What is it?"

"Well, he kinda just jumped the railing of the overpass we’re on."

"He did what?" Lord Imakarum’s voice was soft and flat and deadly and brimming with all sorts of unspoken threats that only a Zoalord could really convey.

And not just any Zoalord, either—the only other Zoalord that Razell knew of who could express those kinds of wordless threats with any kind of success was Dr. Balkus, and he was just really damn scary from the get-go. Lord Imakarum’s face – gentle and obviously Japanese, while still being average-looking as far as Razell was concerned – could catch you kind of off-guard when he started getting all intense and scary. He just didn’t look the type to do something like that.

And that was the _really_ scary part.


	26. Flying High

"He jumped the railing of the overpass on that dirtbike of his."

"He did _what_?"

Razell knew that it would be very bad for his continued health if he said something snarky in response to Lord Imakarum’s question, so he just answered with the bald facts as he’d witnessed them. "He rode up over the hood of a car, and he jumped off the edge of the overpass."

"So he would be dead now," His Excellency said flatly, making it very clear that he wasn’t really asking a question.

Razell took a deep breath and hoped that he would still be breathing when he finished making his report to Lord Imakarum. "I… I don’t think that’s true in this case, Your Excellency. He wouldn’t have done something that drastic if he wasn’t sure he would survive. At least, I don’t think he would."

"Then follow him," Lord Imakarum ordered calmly, cutting off contact from his end.

"Yes, Your Excellency," Razell said belatedly.

"All right; we’re going to catch that little bastard, and we’re going to drag him back to Chronos!" Delcasse growled as he pressed down on the accelerator and turned the truck around.

XxXxX

Sitting down on his dirtbike, sipping from the bottle of water he’d bought for himself, Ryan looked back to see how Sho was doing. He was eating the jerky that Ryan had bought for him, so that was a good sign.

_ +How are you doing back there, Sho? I know that water, crackers, and jerky don’t make for the best lunch, but it was really all I could get us here.+ _

_ +I really don’t mind,+ _ Sho said, as he took another bite of his jerky. _+It was nice of you to get them for me at all.+_

_ +Hey, I was the one that dragged you out here in the first place. The least I could do while we’re out here is get you some food.+ _

_ +I- I was really the one that rescued you, wasn’t I?+ _

_ +I’m still not too clear on what happened back there,+  _ Ryan said ruefully. _+So I really couldn’t say.+_

_ +Yeah,+  _ Sho nodded. _+I can’t really remember what happened then, either. I guess I was still kind of out of it.+_

_ +I guess I was, too. I don’t remember what happened during the time we made our breakout any better than you. I just remember being chased by those goons and then waking up next to you back in my home state.+ _

_ +That’s- that’s pretty much all I remember, too.+ _

Looking back again, Ryan saw that Sho was pretty downcast, staring at the pavement like it alone had some sort of answer for what they were both going through right now. Ryan decided that, besides being time for them to leave for more practical reasons, getting back on the road would probably help Sho forget about what was getting to him.

_ +Sho, we’re going to get moving again. You might want to hold on.+ _

_ +What are we going to do now, Ryan? And, what are we going to do with the food?+ _ Sho asked, even as he wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist and squeezed slightly.

_ +I’ll take care of that,+ _ Ryan said, removing the remains of the jerky stick and the half-empty bottle of water and stuffing them into the bag he’d attached to the side of his dirtbike for situations like this.

Okay well, maybe not situations exactly like this, since no one in their right mind would ever be able to predict a situation exactly like this. Being chased by some nuts in a truck that were determined to turn the both of them into roadkill wasn’t really something that the average person was mentally equipped to handle, let alone suspect. Ryan gave thanks again that he’d never quite been quite normal—it’d probably saved his ass.

Once the food and water had been fully stowed away, Ryan cranked up the engine of his dirtbike and roared off again. He had a more concrete destination in mind this time: his paternal uncle’s cabin up in the hills was a good place to lose oneself, or anyone else that was trying to follow him. The road to get up there was steep and lined with hairpin turns that would be very bad news for the huge truck following him, at least if the goons inside ever managed to catch up to him again.

The only problem with that idea was that his uncle’s cabin was pretty far outside the city, farther than he could get on just this one tank of gas. The food hadn’t cost that much, so money wasn’t so much of an issue at the moment, but if the way Sho was acting was any indication, then those Chronos guys weren’t done with him yet. He was going to have to find a way to keep those guys off his back when he inevitably had to fill his gas tank again.

_ +Where are we going, Ryan?+ _

_ +We’re heading out to my uncle’s cabin up in the hills,+  _ Ryan said, steering in that direction. _+It’s hard for most people to find, which why my old uncle chose it—he’s not too fond of people outside of the family. Course, that means I’m going to have to convince him to let you stay with us until those goons give up looking for ya, but he likes me. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get him on our side.+_

_ +Thank you, Ryan. I hope I’m not being too much of a burden to you.+ _

_ +Nah,+  _ Ryan said, shrugging off Sho’s words as he continued to keep a lookout for any suspicious trucks. _+If you were whining and crying, then you’d be a burden. As it is, you’re less annoying than most of the people I’ve met at school.+_

_ +Oh.+ _

Sho didn’t really seem to have anything else to say about that, so Ryan turned his attention back to the road. Getting lost would just give those Chronos guys more of a chance to catch him, something that Ryan wasn’t going to do. Turning his head to look for the exit that would lead him up the first leg of the trip. Spotting the first exit, Ryan turned to the right and took it.

_ +How are you doing back there, Sho?+ _

_ +I’m fine, Ryan. Thanks for doing this for me.+ _

_ +Well, you’re the one who knows more about these Chronos guys than I do. So it makes sense that I’d want to keep you with me. I guess that sounds a bit harsh of me, eh?+ _

_ +I can understand that,+ _ Sho said, sounding a bit more subdued than Ryan had ever heard him.

_ +It’s not that I don’t want you here, Sho. I just don’t know you well enough to make any definite decisions about whether I like you or not, you know?+ _

_ +I guess that does make sense,+  _ Sho said, sounding a bit less down about himself than he had originally.

The guy really didn’t seem to have a high opinion of himself—either that, or he just wasn’t so good with people. Whichever it was, though, Ryan really didn’t have time to think about it. He needed to keep his mind on finding the next exit on the way to his uncle’s cabin. The sound of revving truck motors prompted Ryan to take a look in his left-side mirror. Sure enough, there was a large, nondescript truck bearing down on him.

Checking his right side, Ryan swore creatively when he saw that there was indeed another truck coming up from that side. He was about to be boxed in, and then… Well, Ryan wasn’t too clear about what was going to happen then, but judging from the way Sho had reacted to even the _idea_ of Chronos, he was fairly sure that it wasn’t going to be anything good. One of Ryan’s frequent – at least today – bursts of insane-genius-under-pressure made itself known then.

Keeping an eye on both trucks, switching his gaze from one mirror to the other, Ryan waited until the two trucks were right alongside him. Then he throttled down, dumping speed fast enough that the trucks overshot him by one-and-a-half car lengths. Laughing, Ryan turned his bike around and headed for the next exit. There were still a few roads between him and his uncle’s cabin, so that meant that he was going to have to lose these chumps on the way there.

Still, with the way he knew these roads, it’d be pretty easy to lose the losers without getting himself lost.

When the road five feet in front of him exploded, Ryan had to turn extremely quickly to keep from running into the giant pothole that up until ten seconds ago had been a flat part of the road in front of him. Dealing with the trucks would be a hell of a lot easier than trying to drive across a pothole that stretched across the entire road. Driving head-on at the truck like he was setting up for some grossly unfair game of "Chicken" freaked out the driver enough that he didn’t react nearly fast enough when Ryan turned slightly and blew by on his left side.

Of course, the move freaked Sho out pretty thoroughly, too.

_ +I can’t believe he fell for that a second time,+ _ Ryan said, chuckling and trying to ease Sho’s obvious tension.

The death-grip that Sho had around his waist was a pretty good indicator of just how freaked out the other boy was.

_ +Ryan? Can we not do that again? Ever?+ _

_ +Can’t say for sure. There might come a time when I need to use it to get us out of another tight spot. It’s a hell of a lot better than letting them capture us, right?+ _

_ +I- I guess so.+ _

_ +You "guess" so? You mean you’re not sure about it?+ _

_ +Ryan, I-+ _

_ +You want me to turn around and ask this guy for advice? I’m sure he’d have his fair share of ideas.+ _

_ +Ryan! No, don’t!+ _

_ +I was kidding, Sho. You really need to lighten up some. You’re way too tense.+ _

Checking his mirrors, Ryan saw that both of the trucks had turned and were tailing him again. He really wished one of them had managed to crash into that big damn pothole in the road, but these guys were obviously not as stupid as your typical movie bad guys. There wasn’t really any doubt in Ryan’s mind that these were the Bad Guys, they were just really smart Bad Guys. That wasn’t a very good thing, but it _would_ make it more fun to get away from them.

They wouldn’t be expecting it, Ryan was sure.

When the road in front of him exploded again, a fair amount closer than it had been last time, Ryan nearly didn’t make it out of the way in time. He had to work to rebalance his bike, though he did manage to right it with a bit of help from Sho. But now there wasn’t really any place for him to go. Even the two trucks didn’t have any way to get over those giant potholes, at least not without tipping over and crashing.

+Well, I’d say we’re now officially fucked. That is, unless you’ve got some ideas on how to get us out of this fix. Got any, Sho?+

_ +I’m sorry, Ryan, but I-+ _

"Sho!"


	27. Working things out

The voice, which Ryan could only peg as belonging to some Japanese guy, sounded pretty excited. In fact, Ryan almost thought that the guy sounded happy to see Sho. Maybe the two of them had met before?

"Murakami-san?"

Sho had a definite accent, something that Ryan hadn’t noticed before. Still, that probably had more to do with how they’d been communicating, since telepathy obviously didn’t transmit accents. Looking over at the new guy, the one Sho seemed so happy to see, Ryan saw that he was dressed a bit strangely.

Or make that _really_ strangely: Ryan didn’t know of any people who would willingly go walking around in a navy blue unitard, but when said unitard was combined with the weird-ass shiny gold armor and the black and red cape… well, then it stopped being just _weird_ and quickly crossed over into what-the-hell-is-this-guy- _on_ territory. Of course, he could be dressing that way just for the shock value, in which case the guy was owed at _least_ a handshake.

_ +Sho?+ _

Ryan watched as Sho climbed off his bike, which was – thankfully for him – stopped in the middle of the road. The guys in the trucks didn’t seem to be interested in doing anything, which was pretty damn bizarre considering that they’d been trying to run him off the road for the better part of what felt like at least three hours. Ryan didn’t much trust this new calm, and he wanted to know just who the hell this new player was in their little game. It seemed like Sho was really happy to see him, though.

Of course, that could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Time would tell which.

Listening as Sho and the new guy – Murakami or something like that – chatted back and forth in rapid Japanese, Ryan put his foot down on the kickstand of his bike and shoved it into place. This looked like it was going to take awhile, so Ryan decided to make himself comfortable and wait for something to happen.

XxXxX

Even as Sho came toward him, prattling on about some idiocy or other, Imakarum spared most of his attention for the red-haired boy on the small motorcycle. Imakarum knew that Sho would never have the will to attack him, so he concentrated instead on the unknown quantity within this scenario. Now there could be no doubt at all that Ryan Crouger had learned to use his Guyver.

It was the only way that the boy could have managed to escape with the Relic cocoon in the first place. Still, the fact that Sho had evidently joined forces with the newest Guyver that had come into being was somewhat troubling. With four Guyvers fighting against Chronos in various parts of the world, things were bound to get complicated for Lord Alkanphel. Still, the fact remained that Sho was a weak-willed, sentimental little fool.

There had to be a way to remove him as an obstacle, some way to make him and the problem he presented to Chronos’ interests – those of Lord Alkanphel – go away.

"Sho," Imakarum began, interrupting another of the boy’s inane stories—such weak, _human_ things no longer meant anything at all to Imakarum.

"What is it, Mr. Murakami?" Sho asked, and Imakarum had to resist the urge to slap the boy.

He was no longer that pathetic, useless, annoying fool Masaki Murakami, and he never would be again. Still, there might be some use to the identity, if only that it would convince Sho to trust him for the time it would take to discreetly dispose of both Guyvers. Perhaps he could throw their corpses into a river after he broke their necks.

"You seem to have made a new friend while I was away," Imakarum said, indicating young Ryan Crouger. "Would you mind introducing me to him?"

"Oh." Sho seemed a bit off-balance for a moment, but he quickly regained his mental footing. Naïve the boy may have been, but he was not particularly stupid. "That’s Ryan Crouger. He’s a Guyver, too. Would you like me to introduce you to him, Mr. Murakami?"

That name again. "I think I’d like that, Sho," Imakarum said, making an effort to sound as if he didn’t already know about the newest threat to Chronos’ plans.

"Okay," Sho said, his smile and the lack of suspicion in his demeanor letting Imakarum know that he’d carried off the illusion well enough. "I’ll take you to meet him, Mr. Murakami."

Imakarum discreetly gritted his teeth; he _would_ deal with being called by that fool’s name if it would get him close enough to Guyvers I and V to kill them both. Preferably quickly and with a minimum of fuss.

As he came closer to the waiting Fifth Guyver, Imakarum noticed that the boy seemed to be waiting for something. The way he looked to Sho first, before turning his gaze on Imakarum, let the Twelfth Zoalord know that this boy was taking his cues from Guyver I. That would make dealing with him much easier, since Sho Fukamachi, weak-willed child that he was, would never think to attack his old friend Masaki Murakami. It was an advantage that Imakarum was perfectly willing to make full use of.

"So," Imakarum said, once the Fifth Guyver’s gaze had settled on him. "This is the newest Guyver to appear."

"Yes," Sho said, nodding. "His name is Ryan Crouger. He’s the one who helped me escape from Chronos."

"You were held captive by Chronos? How did you escape?"

"I- I don’t really know," Sho stammered, seeming more confused than scared. "I think it had something to do with the Guyvers and that strange cocoon. We were both inside it, and then we somehow ended up at Ryan’s house."

"Is that all you remember?"

Sho nodded wordlessly, and Imakarum found himself wondering just how and why the Relic cocoon had responded to Sho and not to any of Lord Hamilcal’s attempts to open it. Perhaps it was because Sho had been the only one who had been able to make contact with the Relic’s main computer. Still, that didn’t explain why Ryan had been absorbed into the cocoon the way Lord Hamilcal had reported.

Then again, perhaps it explained things better than Imakarum had at first thought: it was very possible that Sho’s fine mental control over the Relic had carried over to control of the cocoon as well. It made a fair amount of sense that Sho would be able to order the cocoon to absorb Ryan somehow. Of course, that still left the question of just how Sho and Ryan had escaped from the Dead Sea Plant.

That was when Imakarum noticed that he was now standing over Ryan Crouger, the newest threat to Chronos’ plans. The boy looked a bit younger than he’d been expecting, younger than Sho even, but that would have made Imakarum think that Ryan Crouger would be easier to manipulate. It _would have_ , at least, if Imakarum had not seen the boy’s eyes.

Ryan Crouger’s green eyes had a shrewd look to them, sizing Imakarum up and trying to decide if he was a threat or not. This boy was not as naïve as Sho—that much was obvious from the wariness in his manner when he was confronting Imakarum. He would have to work a bit to gain the boy’s trust.

"So, you were the one who bonded with the new Guyver. I’d heard rumors about you. It’s interesting to finally meet you."

"Oh, good. _You_ actually speak English," the boy said, looking relieved. "I was starting to worry that I’d only be able to communicate through him."

"You can speak with Sho?" Imakarum asked, mildly surprised. "How?"

"He and I have some sort of wacky mental connection." The boy made a face, his expression somewhere between confused and annoyed. "I think it’s telepathy, which is extremely weird since the only people I know of who have telepathic powers are the guys I read about in comic books. And few enough of them, too."

"This must be very strange for you," Imakarum said, settling into the gently paternal demeanor that he used when addressing his son. 

It would make it all the easier to persuade this boy to come with him, somewhere they would not be interrupted—somewhere that a pair of corpses could be hidden with a minimum of fuss and little chance of discovery.

"Weird and strange don’t even begin to cover it," the boy laughed, obviously trying to cover his uneasiness. "I think we’re firmly off the map of weirdness by now."

"Perhaps we could discuss this in more appropriate surroundings," Imakarum said, looking around at the street where they were all standing with the air of someone who wanted to leave. It would, of course, be a great deal easier to dispose of the two Guyvers in a secured Chronos installation. "This street isn’t exactly private."

"I think you’re right, Mr. Murakami."

Turning to smile at Sho for a brief moment, Imakarum turned back to Ryan. He seemed willing to follow where Sho led, at least for the moment. The younger boy followed along docilely for perhaps half a minute.

"Hold on a sec—I have to take care of my bike."

Imakarum, having little enough patience with humans in general and Guyvers in particular, turned to the boy and wordlessly wrapped his arm around his shoulders. The bones felt more fragile for the fact that they were closer to the surface, and it would be so very easy for Imakarum to simply keep squeezing until he had crushed everything – every organ and blood vessel – within the young Guyver’s upper torso. Such an action on his part would endanger his relationship with Sho to an unacceptable degree, though, and so Imakarum restrained himself. There would be ample time to deal with the Guyvers I and V; Imakarum would personally make certain of that.

"Hey, lay off. I’m just trying to get my bike back."

"There is no need for you to worry about that," Imakarum said, his temper starting to fray from the Guyver boy’s insistence.

"The hell there isn’t!" Guyver V shouted, roughly pulling himself free of Imakarum’s grip. "I’ve worked on that bike a long time; I ain’t just leaving it out here for people to steal when I’m not looking."

The boy paused for a moment, then turned to glare briefly at Sho. His demeanor suggested that the two of them were speaking with one another, so this must have been a demonstration of that Guyver-induced telepathy Ryan had spoke briefly about. If all Guyvers had this connection, then it would make disposing of them somewhat more difficult. Imakarum didn’t particularly feel like dealing with Agito Makashima at the moment.


	28. Taking the load

"I insist that you come with us," Imakarum said, stepping forward to wrap his arm back around the young Guyver’s body and then subtly tightening his grip on the boy’s shoulders. "Sho," he said, switching effortlessly back into his native Japanese, "have you used this telepathic power of yours to contact Agito in the past?"

"Yes," Sho said, nodding as Imakarum cursed inwardly. "It’s what we used to coordinate our attacks on those large Chronos bases, back before…" he looked mildly uncomfortable. "Everything happened."

_ Problems on top of other problems, _ Imakarum mused, concealing his irritation with long practice. Dealing with Atkins was less taxing than this. Of course, all of their latest exchanges had happened over the phone. There was no need for Imakarum to worry over what his face displayed when he was speaking to someone who couldn’t see him. He only had to make sure his tone of voice and choice of words didn’t hint at what he was now.

Noticing that Ryan Crouger was no longer with them and wondering for a moment just how the Fifth Guyver had managed to slip out of his hold when he had been sure that he had a very tight grip on the boy, Imakarum saw that he was heading for the miniature motorcycle-esque vehicle that he had ridden to escape from the Zoanoids that had been sent after him. Incensed, Imakarum fired a Gravity Bullet at his back. Stealth be damned; that brat would die for defying him.

The fact that the boy managed to dodge was annoying, but the fact that the Gravity Bullet he’d fired ended up hitting the very thing that the young Guyver had been interested in at the outset was something of a consolation. There was now no reason for young Ryan Crouger to want to leave. For a few moments, the boy who was the Fifth Guyver – though not for much longer if Imakarum had any say in the matter – stood staring at the wreckage of what had once been his vehicle.

His fists were clenched, and his posture radiated rage; Imakarum could not have cared less. There was nothing that a mere human could do to harm a Zoalord, and if the boy had learned to utilize the power of his Guyver Unit, he would not have been trying to flee from Chronos’ forces on such a flimsy vehicle in the first place.

When the young Guyver turned to look at him once again, his expression a mask of determined anger, Imakarum offered him a tight smile. The boy was weak, and Sho would never attack his _old friend_ Murakami; there was nothing that he could do. Ryan Crouger was helpless. That was what made it so very amusing to watch the boy as he stalked back toward their little group.

"So, are you prepared to come along quietly now?" he asked.

XxXxX

When Mr. Murakami had fired that strange blast – something that almost looked like the Guyver’s Pressure Cannon – at Ryan’s back, Sho hadn’t known what to do. He was glad that Ryan had managed to dodge, but seeing his dirtbike get blown up – blown up by Mr. Murakami and _why had he even done that?_ – had obviously made him very angry. It hadn’t sounded very much like an apology, what Mr. Murakami had said to Ryan, and the look on Ryan’s face was still one of anger.

What was going on? Why had Mr. Murakami tried to attack Ryan the way he had?

When Ryan punched Mr. Murakami, first in… a particularly sensitive area that made Sho wince in sympathy, and again under the chin when Mr. Murakami doubled over in pain, Sho was torn between rushing to help Mr. Murakami and helping Ryan. Mr. Murakami was his friend, but Ryan was a fellow Guyver, and he’d helped them both to escape from the Zoanoids that had been pursuing them.

_ +What the flying fuck?!+ _

_ +Ryan? What’s going on?+ _

_ +Hey, you know this guy, right?+ _

_ +Mr. Murakami is a friend of mine. Why did-+ _

_ +You could have at least told me your friend’s got intensely freaky eyes, you know.+ _

_ +What?+ _

_ +His eyes—they look like some mondo bizarro cross between a cat’s and a person’s. Like, if you took a pair of yellow cat eyes and stuck them into the whites of a human eye and—why the hell am I even telling you this? You’ve seen him without that visor of his, right?+ _

_ +Well, I…+ _

Now that he thought about it, Sho realized that Mr. Murakami had never worn a visor like that. Even back when he’d been wearing those green sunglasses, he’d still taken them off. And Mr. Murakami’s eyes had looked just like every other pair of dark eyes that Sho had seen in his life.

_ +Ryan, are you sure that’s what you saw?+ _

_ +Uh, yeah! What, you don’t believe me? You’re welcome to come and take a look for yourself, buddy-boy. In fact, I think you should either try to talk your old pal here down, or get your butt in gear and help me!+ _

Turning to look from Mr. Murakami to Ryan, Sho watched in shock and growing horror as Mr. Murakami – the one who had helped him and Agito in their early battles against Chronos and taught them what it took to fight against them – fired another of those strange blasts at Ryan’s feet. Ryan managed to leap out of the way, thank God, but the fact that Mr. Murakami had even attacked him in the first place was terrifying to Sho.

What had happened to Mr. Murakami that he would do this?!

_ +Sho, when I asked for your help, I kinda meant today!+ _

Ryan was still up and dodging the blasts that Mr. Murakami was firing at him, but then the doors of the trucks – the trucks that Sho had almost forgotten were even there in the first place – burst open as a small army of Zoanoids flooded out onto the roadway. As the mass of Zoanoids started to gather around Mr. Murakami, Sho got the feeling that things were still not right. The Zoanoids didn’t seem to be ready to attack Mr. Murakami the way they always seemed to do; in fact, if Sho didn’t know better, he’d almost say that these Zoanoids were looking to Mr. Murakami for orders.

But that couldn’t be true; Mr. Murakami was an enemy of Chronos. He had been helping them to fight against the Zoanoids ever since they had first met.

But all of the Zoanoids were gathering around Mr. Murakami, and they weren’t moving in to attack him. It even sounded like one of them was asking him for orders, but that was even more impossible. But then, that seemed to be just what was happening: Mr. Murakami pointed at Ryan, his manner suggesting that he was even glaring at Ryan, and said something in English that Sho didn’t understand.

The fact that all of the Zoanoids leapt at Ryan while Mr. Murakami stood back and watched— _watched_ , with a disturbingly gleeful expression on his face – made Sho wonder what on earth had happened to Mr. Murakami. Whatever it was, he was beginning to doubt it was anything good.

"Mr. Murakami!" Sho ran at the laughing—Why was he _laughing_?! – form of his old friend. "Mr. Murakami, what are you _doing_?!"

Even running as fast as he could – in human form, at least – Sho could still see Mr. Murakami turning to face him. Mr. Murakami still had that disturbing smile on his face, and then he fired another of those strange Pressure Cannon-like blasts. This time, Sho could see that the blast was aimed at _him_. More than that, he could see what Ryan had been talking about: Mr. Murakami’s eyes _were_ bright yellow, but from the distance he was at, Sho couldn’t see if the pupils really were catlike the way Ryan had said.

"Mr. Murakami!? What are you doing?!"

"That should be obvious, Sho," Mr. Murakami said, grinning in a very unnerving way. "Die!"

A volley of those strange blasts ripped into the place where Sho had been standing just half a minute ago, and he covered his face with his arms to shield himself from the flying debris that had once been part of the street.

"Mr. Murakami, please stop!"

"Never!"

This time, Sho could see Mr. Murakami’s Incision Wave – the same one that he had used to kill those Enzyme IIs in the forest according to Tetsuro – heading straight for his torso. Diving to the ground, knowing that that attack would split him in half if it connected, Sho looked up at the strangely dressed form of his old friend. _Come to think of it, Mr. Murakami’s never worn anything like this before. And… he seems stronger than before…_

A flash of strong emotion – annoyance mixed with a healthy amount of fear – came through to him over the link he shared with Ryan, and Sho turned. Seeing Ryan go down, buried beneath a veritable pile of rushing Zoanoids, Sho felt his heart seize up for a moment. While it was true that he hadn’t known Ryan for very long at all, the other boy was still a fellow Guyver, and to see him die like that…

But then there came an explosion from the center of the group of Zoanoids that had enveloped Ryan—a kind of explosion that Sho was very familiar with. It was the same kind of explosion that he had been witness to – and at the epicenter of – more times than he could remember. When the dead Zoanoids had all collapsed to the ground, Sho saw Ryan’s Guyver form for the very first time.

It wasn’t really all that much different from his own, but the coloring made it seem so—that and the strange armored collar. Ryan’s Guyver was a smoky gray, the coiled tendrils between the plates giving an interesting contrast with their bright red-orange color. In fact, with its combination of colors, Ryan’s Guyver armor almost gave the impression of being a paler version of Agito’s. All except for the head—that looked more like his than any other Guyver Sho had seen.


	29. Weakness and Willpower

When the armor had finished forming around him, something that Ryan was almost certain he’d experienced before – must’ve been something to do with Sho – Ryan got his first real look at the virtual army of monstered-out goons that was currently surrounding him. They all looked like they wanted nothing more than to pound the living crap out of him—at least, the ones who weren’t busy looking like blown up roadkill did.

It _was_ pretty freaky, the way all of the dead ones were rotting so fast, and Ryan took a moment to be grateful that he couldn’t smell them. That must have been one nasty smell; he’d heard enough from his mom to know that the smell of rotting flesh wasn’t one that any normal person would enjoy. Of course, none of the things he was facing now could ever really be considered normal. Ryan didn’t even think they qualified as people anymore, not after what they had just _done._

_ +So, Sho, what’s the story with these beast-man guys?+ _

_ +They’re called Zoanoids,+  _ Sho said, sounding like he had lost something very important to him.

_ +You mean these are the things that were chasing us?+ _

_ +Yes.+ _

_ +Good to know,+  _ Ryan said. _+Now, just how are we supposed to beat them? And why do you sound like someone just ran over your dog?+_

_ +You- you can use the Guyver’s weapons to kill them; the Control Medal will tell you what to do.+ _

_ +And what about the other thing, eh, Sho?+ _

_ +What do you mean?+ _

_ +Why do you look like you’ve just lost your best friend?+ _

_ +Maybe because I just have.+ _

If Sho had been speaking out loud, Ryan might have been tempted to call what he was doing whispering. It wasn’t like it was any "quieter" than normal – and how far gone was he that he was starting to think about this kind of stuff as _normal_? – but there was certainly something about it that suggested Sho was whispering. Maybe it was the tone, insofar as something that could only be heard inside a person’s head could have a tone at all.

Ducking under the arms of the Zoanoids as they took a swipe at him and still wondering what Sho had meant by what he had said earlier, Ryan suddenly got a very strong visual impression of both his upper arms and the tops of his wrists. When he looked at his right wrist, Ryan saw a noticeable lump there—a pointy lump, like something was there just waiting for him to notice it and use it.

With a thought, Ryan extended the lump, watching as it elongated from a barely-there thing of about an inch high to a blade that was six inches long and shimmered softly in the light. Ryan even thought he could hear it humming but decided that he was probably imagining that. Whatever the case, this new weapon of his was pretty cool. _Looks like I’ve got a matched set, though._

With a little mental urging, Ryan managed to do the same with the blade on his left wrist. The Zoanoids gave him a teensy bit more breathing room once he had managed to figure out how to use his new wrist-blades, but the guy in the center – Sho’s "old friend," though Ryan was really starting to doubt his fellow Guyver’s sanity if he’d make friends with someone like _that_ – seemed to be prodding them into attacking again.

It was getting pretty damned annoying.

_ +Sho, if you’re done agonizing over things you’re not telling me about, do you think you could get your butt in gear?!+ _

_ +I’m- I’m sorry, Ryan. It’s just…+ _

_ +Yeah, well, whatever it is, get over it! I’m not sure how much longer I can hold these guys off!+ _

_ +I’m coming,+  _ Sho seemed to whisper again.

Ryan didn’t quite know what was going on with Sho, though he was starting to suspect a few things, but now _really_ wasn’t the time to be conducting any impromptu therapy sessions. Not in the middle of the street, and sure as hell not when they were being assaulted by an army of freakish monsters. There would be time for Sho to get his head on straight later; for now, it was more important that they didn’t get killed. Being dead would be a real impediment to talking things over, after all.

When another Guyver—a blue one with twisty purple stuff between the plates of its armor—came charging into the thick of the group of Zoanoids that was trying to beat him down, Ryan was particularly grateful to have him there.

_ +Well, I see you’ve gotten over whatever it was that was bothering you,+  _ Ryan greeted cordially. _+Good to have you here.+_

_ +Thanks, Ryan. But I really haven’t gotten over it. You’re right; for now we need to focus on getting out of this situation. I’ll worry about Mr. Murakami later.+ _

_ +Good. You do that.+ _

Plunging his wrist-blade into a bug-looking Zoanoid’s head, Ryan ripped it out and kicked the next-closest Zoanoid in the chest.

_ +Yo, Sho?+ _

_ +What is it, Ryan?+ _

_ +Are there any other weapons on this Guyver thing that I should know about? Like something that could clear some more of these Zoanoids out of our way? Maybe a lot of them at once?+ _

_ +Maybe the Mega-Smasher—no, that would do too much damage to the city. I think you’d want to use the Pressure Cannon here.+ _

_ +Great. What the heck is that, anyway?+ _

_ +Sorry. I guess I keep forgetting that you’re new to all of this. You’ll want to focus on your Gravity Controller—that’s part of the system that activates the Pressure Cannon.+ _

_ +Thanks for the advice, Sho.+ Now, let’s hope I listened well enough to keep my skin intact.+ _

Focusing on the Gravity Controller the way Sho had told him to, Ryan felt something humming at his waist. It was probably that Gravity Controller thing that Sho had talked about, but the feeling of something buzzing between his hands wasn’t exactly what Ryan had been expecting. That was probably the Pressure Cannon; looking down at his hands, Ryan saw something forming between them.

It was some weird kind of air distortion that looked like a small black hole. Or at least what Ryan thought a black hole would look from his astronomy studies. Once the thing had fully formed, Ryan slammed it into the head of the nearby lizardlike Zoanoid and watched gleefully as the thing’s head exploded.

_ +That was pretty fun.+ _

_ +Just try to concentrate on what you’re doing, Ryan.+ _

_ +Right. I’ll keep that in mind.+ _

Gathering up another mini black hole, Ryan fired it at another Zoanoid. Then, extending his wrist-blades again, Ryan dove into the midst of the attacking Zoanoids.


	30. Progress Report

Pressing his hands against the processing-tank in front of him, Kenji peered into the fluid inside. The first of his Alvix Zoanoids—Dad or one of the other Zoalords would have called it a prototype, and that’s what all of the doctors were calling it, too – was waiting for him inside the tank. It wasn’t quite ready yet, as it hadn’t even grown fur, and the teeth and claws hadn’t formed.

The doctors had told him that it would be at least ten more hours before his Alvix prototype was ready to leave the processing-tank. Kenji wasn’t really sure that he could wait that long, or that Mr. Fried’rich would be able to keep Dad distracted while the doctors were finishing his Alvix up. Hearing the door to the private lab Mr. Fried’rich had set him up in starting to open, Kenji hurried over to it before the person on the other side could come in. It would be okay if it were just another doctor coming in to help, but he really didn’t want Dad to see his Alvix before it was finished. That would ruin the whole surprise!

"Mr. Fried’rich! What are you doing in here?!" Kenji asked, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him into the lab. "Dad could have been following you!" Poking his head out into the halls of Cloud Tower, Kenji looked around, just to be sure that Mr. Fried’rich hadn’t accidentally led Dad into the lab.

"I am quite certain that your father has not followed me here, little one," Mr. Fried’rich said, chuckling as he patted Kenji’s head.

Kenji didn’t really see what was so funny. "But he _could_ have been."

"Kenji, my last communication with him indicated that your father is currently inspecting the operations of the research outpost in Antarctica. He will not return here for quite some time, unless he is called back by some emergency," Mr. Fried’rich said, looking serious.

Kenji felt a little silly for getting so worried after Mr. Fried’rich told him that. "Well, okay. What are you doing here, though?"

"I was interested in the development of your new Zoanoid model," Mr. Fried’rich said, patting Kenji’s head in passing as he stepped past him. "This would be it, would it not?"

"Uh-huh," Kenji said, nodding eagerly. He really wanted to find out what Mr. Fried’rich thought about his Alvix. "Do you like it?"

"It _is_ a rather inspired design for one as young as yourself," Mr. Fried’rich said, walking over to the tank and peering inside.

"That means you like it, right?" Kenji asked again.

"Yes, that it does," Mr. Fried’rich said, turning to smile at him.

Kenji smiled back. "I’m glad you like it. I worked real hard."

"Yes," Mr. Fried’rich said, looking at his Alvix where it still floated in the processing-tank. "Your diligence and study in this area is rather self-evident."

Kenji wasn’t really sure what that meant, but it sounded like a compliment. "Thanks!" Kenji said, smiling wider.

"You are quite welcome, little one," Mr. Fried’rich said, patting Kenji’s head again. "I must admit, I look forward to seeing this new model of yours tested in combat. I am going to consult with the scientists now; would you like to stay and listen?"

"No," Kenji shook his head. "That’s boring. I’m going to go get some food now, okay, Mr. Fried’rich?"

"Very well," Mr. Fried’rich said, nodding with a slight smile on his face. "I will send a couple Hyper Zoanoids to keep an eye on you."

"Okay. Bye, Mr. Fried’rich!"

"Goodbye, Kenji. Enjoy your meal."

"I will!" Kenji called back over his shoulder as he left.

XxXxX

Once Imakarum’s son had left the laboratory, the two Hyper Zoanoids that had been assigned to him trailing behind, Fried’rich turned to the overseers that he had assigned to work under the boy.

"This ‘Alvix’ model of his _is_ a viable Zoanoid form, is it not?" Fried’rich asked. "I would hate for the child to be disappointed in his first creation."

"I’ve checked over all of his work, just like you asked me to, sir," Dr. Berenson said. "The design is a simple one, almost akin to the Ramochis model in that respect. Though the wolf-base that the… child decided to use is rather more distantly related than the ape-base of the Ramochis model. It will still be an easily reproducible Zoanoid type."

"That is good," Fried’rich said, nodding in satisfaction. It would mean a great deal to Kenji when he found out that his Alvix model was indeed viable and hence could be mass-produced for use in Chronos. Of course, the next step was to select a group of candidates to be processed into this new type of Zoanoid.

The Alvix model would need to be tested, both to determine whether it was a worthwhile addition to the ranks of Chronos’ Standard Zoanoids, as well as just what kind of missions the model would be best suited for. Though, judging by the form that was starting to develop in the processing-tank, Fried’rich was inclined to believe that these new Zoanoids would be suited best for forest and jungle operations.

The Alvix certainly did resemble the Chaltu, Maldu, and Heffex Zoanoid types, types that had been designed to operate in jungles and thickly forested terrain. It _would_ most likely be assigned the same types of missions as those Zoanoids once the model was fully integrated into Chronos’ ranks.

Kenji would want to be notified of this, of course. Contacting the Hyper Zoanoids that he had sent to look after the boy, Fried’rich found that Kenji had finished eating and was just preparing to leave the cafeteria.

_ -Wait, Noskov. Keep Kenji with you; I wish to speak with him.- _

Once Noskov had acknowledged his request and agreed to it, Fried’rich bid his farewell to the Hyper Zoanoid and started making his own way to the cafeteria. Kenji would be wanting to leave now, in spite of the fact that Noskov had asked him to wait. He was still young yet, and so did not understand the value of patience. Imakarum was gone at the moment, so it fell to him to take care of the boy. Kenji would have to learn those values if he was ever to function as an adult, and Fried’rich was going to see that he did, even without Imakarum’s input.

Once he had reached the eating area, he found that Kenji was just leaving. That was odd, since Fried’rich knew that he had in fact assigned Noskov to make certain that the boy would stay and wait for him.

_ -Noskov? Has something gone wrong? Why are you not at Kenji’s table? And why is he leaving?- _

_ I apologize, Your Excellency. When the kid told me that he was bored and wanted to leave, I… I just couldn’t help myself. _

_ -You let him go.- _

_ I’m sorry, sir. _

_ -I suppose it is understandable, given the circumstances,- _ Fried’rich said calmly.

Kenji was, after all, a Zoalord himself. It would make sense that he could command Zoanoids, even if it was only on a subconscious level. When a Zoalord stated his desire to leave so plainly, even one of the more advanced Zoanoids like a Hyper would not be able to resist him, and Kenji, for all his youth and inexperience with his powers, was still a Zoalord.

Fried’rich strode calmly through the ranks of seated Zoanoids, following the psychic trail of Chronos’ youngest Zoalord. Once he had caught sight of Kenji’s retreating back, Fried’rich called out to him.

_ -Kenji, wait a moment.- _

_ -Mr. Fried’rich?-  _ Kenji asked, turning to look back at him. "What are you doing here? Did you want to talk to me?"

"Yes, Kenji, I did," Fried’rich said, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "It’s about your Zoanoid model."

"My Alvix?" he asked, looking mildly distraught. "What about it? Did something happen? Has- has something gone wrong? My Alvix didn’t turn into a Lost Number, did it?"

"Calm down, child," Fried’rich said, gently placing his hand over Kenji’s mouth to silence him and stop him from worrying so much. Kenji blinked in mute surprise at the action. "Nothing has happened to your Zoanoid. I came to inform you that your Alvix is ready to go into mass production. The candidate selection is to begin in one week, once the modifications have been finished. I am certain that your father will be pleased with your efforts."

His piece said, Fried’rich removed his hand from Kenji’s mouth to see what the young Zoalord would say to that, if he said anything at all.

"You mean my Alvix is really going to be one of the Zoanoids that they use around here?" Kenji asked, having evidently forgotten all about his earlier worry. Such was the way of children.

"Yes," Fried’rich said, nodding to put the young one at ease. "It will. After all of the testing has been completed, your Alvix will join the ranks of the Ramochis, Gregole, and Chaltu model Zoanoids."

"That’s great!" Kenji exclaimed happily, impulsively embracing Fried’rich. "Dad’s going to be so happy when he finds out! But you won’t tell him yet, will you, Mr. Fried’rich?"

"Of course not," Fried’rich said. "You seemed to be interested in going somewhere before we spoke, Kenji. Where was it?"

"Oh," Kenji blinked, looking mildly confused for a moment. "I was just going back to Dad’s room to lie down. I always do that after I eat."

"I suppose that makes a fair amount of sense. Would you like me to wake you when your Alvix has completed processing?"

"Would you really do that for me, Mr. Fried’rich?"

"I would," Fried’rich said calmly.

"Thanks!" the young Zoalord exclaimed, briefly embracing him again. "I’m gonna go lay down now, Mr. Fried’rich."

As Kenji made for his father’s room, Fried’rich wondered when Imakarum would return to Cloud Tower and just how long Kenji would want to keep his accomplishments secret from him. Kenji was always eager to have his father’s approval; he just wondered how the boy would manage to balance that desire with his expressed wish to keep his Zoanoid model a secret from Imakarum until it had been finalized.


	31. Warring Faction

Diving out of the way of another barrage of those weird blasts, Ryan decided that it was time to go after the guy who was shooting at him—the same guy whom Sho had once insisted was his friend, though he seemed to have either changed his mind or decided to think about whatever it was that was bothering him later. There were a lot of bug-people in the air around them, so Sho had flown off to deal with them. There were also some bat-guys along for the chase; he’d taken a few of them down himself, but it was mostly Sho dealing with them.

Of course, now that he was going to pick a fight with the guy who’d started all the shit they were in, the bats and the bugs were probably going to start going after _him_ now. _Well, nothing for it, I guess. Time to bust some more heads._ Diving out of the sky, Ryan had to swerve quite a few times to keep from getting pulverized by those blasts that Sho’s old buddy was slinging. He’d seen what they could do to concrete and asphalt, and he had no desire to find out if the Guyver he was wearing was tougher than those.

Landing on the balls of his feet, Ryan rushed the armored nutjob currently firing at Sho. Of course, this drew said armored nutjob’s attention directly to him, but there was really no way to avoid that. Besides, it took his focus off Sho, and that was generally a good thing, or so Ryan hoped.

"Hey, Sir-blast-a-lot!" Ryan challenged, firing one of his own blasts at the guy’s head. "You got a beef, take it up with me!"

The nutjob didn’t answer—at least, not verbally, anyway. He _did_ fire another barrage of those weirdly similar-looking blasts at him, and then another one after that. None of them connected, though; Ryan made sure of that.

"Is _that_ the best you can do?!"

"Well, if you want something _different_ -!"

Armored Boy made a motion that suggested he was karate-chopping the air, and Ryan would have laughed at him except for one thing. One large thing. One large, green, glowing, crescent-shaped thing that was _heading right at him_!

Ryan didn’t know exactly what it would do if it hit him, but he was in no hurry to find out. That thing was obviously not of the good.

"Nice moon-shot," Ryan laughed after he’d managed to get the hell out of the way. "Looks like you missed, though."

"I might have missed _you_ ," he said, grinning in that not entirely sane way that really put Ryan on edge.

"Wha-?"

Turning to look over his shoulder, Ryan found that the blast was still traveling. And now it was heading straight for Sho. _Fuck._ Even as he made a beeline for Sho, who was still fighting the flying bat-and-bug squad, Ryan suspected that he wouldn’t make it to Sho in time to shove him out of the way.

_ +Sho, move it! You’re right in the way of some- I don’t know what the hell it is, but it’s coming at you, and I don’t think it’s a good thing! Get out of there!+ _

Ryan saw Sho turn his head slightly, then dart out of the way of the incoming blast. It was a good thing he did, too, since the next thing Ryan saw was that selfsame blast carving through the bat and bug guys like a knife through warm butter. One of them had been sliced completely in half; the two pieces were rotting even as they fell through the air.

Ryan really doubted they’d be anything more than a liquid by the time they hit the ground; or rather splattered all over it. But his problem was in front of him, and it really needed dealing with, so Ryan turned back to armored-boy.

"Murakami-san!" Sho shouted, and then started babbling something in Japanese that Ryan didn’t catch.

And then the armored wacko answered in kind. He was still laughing, something that Ryan had learned to associate with things that were not of the good.

_ +Are you ever going to tell me what you two are talking about, or am I just going to have to keep guessing?+  _ Ryan asked, starting to get annoyed. _+Why the hell are you talking to him anyway? He’s the one trying to kill us, moron!+_

_ +Ryan, I-+ _

_ +Well, what is it? What’s going on with you, anyway?+ _

_ +Mr. Murakami was my friend, and I just- I want-+ _

_ +Yeah? You want what?+ _

_ +I want to know why.+ _

_ +Fair enough,+ _ Ryan said. _+Still, when you’re fighting, it’s not a good time to think about things like that.+_

_ +I know. But I- I just- I don’t think I can-+ _

_ +No worries, Sho. I’ll take on the big guy if you can’t.+ _

_ +Thank you, Ryan.+ _

Just before he turned away to deal with the armored nutjob the way he’d promised Sho he would, Ryan looked back over his shoulder to see what Sho was going to do. As it turned out, Sho was getting back to fighting the bats and the bugs. There were only a few of them left, so that was good. That meant that there was a better than average chance that the two of them would be able to get the hell out of here soon, and that was a very good thing as far as Ryan was concerned.

Of course, before they could do any getting the hell out of anywhere, he’d have to deal with the irate, trigger-happy whackjob who had – presumably – started this whole thing. And that meant that he was going to have to think up some new moves; this guy seemed like he could shrug off most of what Ryan could throw at him. _Most_ , because Ryan was getting some impressions from his Guyver again—impressions that suggested that this armor of his had something else up its proverbial sleeve.

"Are you the one who’s going to fight me now?" he asked, still grinning and looking like he was sizing up a juicy cut of steak. Ryan wasn’t too fond of the comparison. "Pity. I would have thought Sho would have at least _tried_ to meet me head-on. We are old friends, after all."

"You’re trying to _kill_ him, you demented, obsessive-compulsive, sociopathic loony," Ryan drawled. "I think he’d want to stay as far away from you as he possibly could; I know I would. And don’t try to feed me that bullshit about you guys being friends, cause there’s no way in hell that I’m going to buy that line. _Old friends_ wouldn’t be trying to murder each other."

"Well, it seems that you have quite a few things figured out," Jonny Dementiod said, again flashing that crazed grin at him. "Do you think that any of it will help you survive?"

"Anything’s possible," Ryan said calmly, wondering where this conversation was going.

This guy didn’t really seem like the type to be so chatty with someone who he was trying to kill. Then again, he didn’t really seem all that stable either, so maybe this was just his way of blowing off steam before he started blowing off limbs. In that case, he was perfectly welcome to go fuck himself with the nearest jagged, pointy, and/or obscenely huge object.

"Indeed," the psychopath said, still grinning like a demented death’s head.

"What’s your name, anyway?" Ryan asked, both because he was genuinely curious and he wanted the nutball to _stop grinning_ already. "I can’t just keep calling you ‘hey you’ while I’m beating the ever-loving crap out of you, you know?"

"My name – though ordinarily I would say that it is none of your business, Guyver – is Imakarum Mirabilis."

"Huh," Ryan scoffed. "I could have _sworn_ Sho told me your name was Murakami. What happened? Freak misspelling accident?"

"Masaki Murakami is _dead_ , and Sho is a sentimental, weak-willed little fool," crazy-guy – or Imakarum, though Ryan doubted he was ever going to actually _call_ him that; he was just really fun to bait – growled, seeming pretty well pissed off.

"Wow, I gotta tell you I never really took you for a zombie," Ryan said, chuckling at the look on Imakarum’s face.

The Crescent Moon of Death aimed at his head let Ryan know that he’d pissed the guy off on an epic scale. Definitely not of the good.

Taking a couple seconds to make sure that Sho wasn’t behind him again, Ryan dodged and then lunged in quick succession. Imakarum the Loony was caught off-guard, happily enough, and Ryan was able to slam his fist into the guy’s face. Of course, he ended up getting thrown into the ground for his trouble, but it was really fun in spite of that.

_ +Ryan! Are you all right?+ _

_ +Yeah, Sho, I’m fine. I’m just a little grounded at the moment.+ _

Leaping backwards just as the Mother of all Lasers slammed into the crater where he’d been standing, Ryan flew back into the air to confront Imakarum again.

"So I see you managed to survive again," Imakarum growled.

"You didn’t think you could get rid of me _that_ easily, did you?" Ryan laughed—the pissy look on Imakarum’s face was just too funny.

"One could hope," he spat.

Before Ryan could start attacking again, or tell Captain Crazy just where he could stick his hope, Imakarum dove forward. Bending at the waist like he was in a limbo contest, Ryan managed to just avoid the punch that the crazy flying guy had aimed at him. Ryan had a feeling that this fight he’d just stepped into wasn’t going to be over quickly.

_ Well, ain’t that just fucking great. _


	32. Discoveries

Imakarum was annoyed; actually, he had long since passed annoyance and was quickly overtaking rage. This was not how he had planned for things to happen—he’d not been expecting to fight a Guyver who could challenge him on his own terms. He had already known that Sho could not have hoped to do such a thing, not with his memories of Masaki Murakami still so strong and immediate. He had certainly never been expecting the Fifth Guyver to adapt so quickly to his new situation and come to the aid of someone he had only met on that selfsame day. And yet this boy, this Ryan Crouger, had done just that. It was aggravating in the extreme.

And that was why he was going to rip the Control Medal from the brat’s skull and give it to Lord Hamilcal for study. And more than that, he was going to do it _quickly_. Kenji would doubtless be missing him by now, and he was also eager to spend some time with his son. There was only the matter of dealing with this irksome little Guyver.

Sensing another impending attack, Imakarum swerved, directly into the path of the sole of Ryan’s foot. The little brat was more cunning than he had first expected. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, along with the remains of two chipped teeth, Imakarum knocked aside the child’s fist, then grabbed Ryan’s head. Transforming into his larger battleform, Imakarum closed his right hand around the little Guyver boy’s skull and squeezed.

"I’ll split your skull open and pluck out the Control Medal, brat!"

Gritting his teeth in a fierce grin, Imakarum squeezed the Guyver boy’s head and listened to him scream. It was a _very_ satisfying sound. The little pest kicked and struggled, but he was of course completely unable to overcome the strength of a full Zoalord.

It was only to be expected: the boy had not been using his Guyver for even half a day. He could not hope to match any but the weakest or the stupidest Zoanoids. The ones he had killed were a prime example, as they were all merely Standard Zoanoids.

A sudden pain in his wrist, just above where he had the little brat’s head in his hand, almost caused Imakarum to release his grip. Noticing that one of the Guyver’s Vibration Blades – and just how the hell had that little bastard contrived to have blades on his wrists?! – was fully extended and jammed into the joint of his right wrist, Imakarum hissed in pain. As his hand started to go numb from loss of blood, Imakarum forced it to open with the last amount of control that he had over it.

Then, grabbing the brat’s armored collar with his still functional left hand, Imakarum threw him at the approaching Guyver I. Unable to stabilize in time, Guyver V slammed into Guyver I with all the force that Imakarum had imparted to him. The blood that had been dripping from Guyver V’s blade – _his blood_ , Imakarum thought with an irritated snarl – was soon joined by that of his comrade in arms.

Laughing, Imakarum watched for a moment as Guyvers I and V attempted to disentangle themselves. Guyver V pulled his right Vibration Blade out of the base of Guyver I’s shoulder with a wet, sucking, popping sound. That certainly made the situation a great deal more amusing. Firing another volley of Gravity Bullets at the two Guyvers, Imakarum watched in mild annoyance as Guyver V dodged them again.

That annoyance was lessened by the fact that Sho did _not_ manage to dodge. Guyver I took most of his Gravity Bullets in the left flank, leaving him injured and bleeding all over the roadway beneath them.

"Mr. Murakami! Please, don’t do this! I don’t-"

"You seem to be forgetting, Sho," Imakarum hissed, grinning at the anguish he could hear in the Japanese Guyver’s voice. "I’m not that fool Murakami anymore!"

Firing two more Incision Waves at the annoying, pathetic little Guyver, Imakarum dodged a blow from Guyver V that would have removed a large chunk of his shoulder. The brat had both of his wrist blades extended and his fists up like a human boxer. Whatever he thought he would accomplish with that tactic, Imakarum was not going to let the boy get away with injuring him again.

Just as Imakarum had been expecting, Guyver V was attempting to punch him. The Vibration Blades on his wrists would have done a great deal of damage if they had been allowed to connect; that was why he would not let them do so. Imakarum was not going to give this miserable, irksome little brat the satisfaction of wounding him again. Once had been _more_ than enough.

Darting out of the range of the Guyver boy’s fists, Imakarum lashed out with a barrage of Wind Scythes. Guyver V managed to dodge two of them, but the third sheared off his left hand, and the fourth sliced part of his right leg off, leaving the limb torn open and bleeding from the knee down. The fifth did no more than cut off the tip of the fin atop his head, and the boy managed to dodge the sixth.

Still, the fact that the brat was injured now would make it a great deal easier to deal with him in the long run. Or the short, considering the fact that Imakarum did not plan to let the Guyver brat live to threaten Chronos’ plans any further, to say nothing of the danger that another Guyver would pose to Kenji. He would not allow _anyone_ to threaten his son.

"Mr. Murakami-!"

"Shut up, you brainless, simpering halfwit!"

Firing an Incision Wave at Sho to shut him up, Imakarum watched in satisfaction as the boy’s severed right arm fell to the ground far below. There was still the matter of Crouger to be dealt with, but with Sho – the one who knew how to best use his Guyver – out of the way, dealing with that brat Crouger would be a great deal more simple.

_ -Imakarum!- _

_ -Lord Shin? Did you want to speak with me?- _

_ -There are a pair of news helicopters heading your way. I have been trying to steer them away from your location, but I have not been able to dissuade them as yet.- _

_ -You have blockaded the streets that would lead other humans to this area, correct Lord Shin?- _

_ -Yes, but these news crews are in helicopters, as I stated before. They will not be affected by a mere roadblock, and I doubt it would be possible for you to conceal an aerial battle from them. They will be approaching your position very shortly.- _

_ -I see,-  _ Imakarum commented, supremely annoyed at the interruption of what had been shaping up into a very entertaining battle for him. _-I will return to Cloud Tower, then.-_

_ -Thank you for your understanding, Imakarum.- _

_ -And thank you for your warning, Lord Shin.- _

Imakarum ground his teeth in annoyance; reporters were more trouble than they were worth. He knew Masaki Murakami had been a reporter, and that man had caused nothing but trouble for Chronos. Of course, Murakami had not been like any other reporter, but his differences had only made him more dangerous. But now was not the time for such thoughts; the Guyvers had to be dealt with quickly now, before any of those irksome reporters could make trouble for him.

Firing an omni-directional barrage of Gravity Bullets, Imakarum teleported out. Hopefully, the Guyvers – or at least one of them, preferably Sho – would be killed by the blasts. There were other matters that required his attention, such as the inspection of Chronos’ Antarctica Research Station that he had been called away from to lead this mission to retrieve the Relic cocoon – a mission that had become a great deal more involved than he had been expecting – came to mind.

It was time he returned to his original duties; there would be other opportunities to annihilate the Guyvers. As much as he wanted to believe that he had eliminated both of them, he knew that that was supremely unlikely. Sho Fukamachi could be irritatingly persistent, and it seemed as though the Crouger boy was made in the same mold, only to a somewhat greater degree.


	33. Family life

As he settled back to the ground, relying mostly on Ryan to support his weight, Sho couldn’t help but replay the battle with the – the _Zoalord_ who had once been Mr. Murakami – his enemy. The pain from his side helped him to focus, but not so much that he could completely forget what had just happened. Mr. Murakami – Mr. Murakami had just – he couldn’t even bring himself to _think_ about what had happened.

Standing, but with his arm still around Ryan’s shoulders, Sho waited for his Guyver to finish healing him. He wanted to get out of the armor; Guyvers couldn’t cry, after all. Their eyes had nothing that resembled human eyes – not irises, not whites, and not tear ducts. And Sho wanted to curl up and cry for a very long time.

He was grateful to Ryan for protecting him, for keeping him – keeping them both, really – safe from the Zoalord that had come after them. But now, with the battle over, though for what reason Sho still didn’t know, there was time for the both of them to rest. Time to heal from all that had happened to them both. When his hyper-sensors alerted him to the approach of various large, slow-moving objects, he turned to look at the road in front of them. That was where the signal was coming from. He didn’t know if it was more Chronos troops, but he didn’t want to risk removing his Guyver if it was: no human had a chance of fighting off a Zoanoid without at least _some_ kind of enhancement. He’d at least learned that from all the time he’d spent fighting them.

Scanning farther with his sensors, Sho found that the shapes heading toward them were large trucks. Beyond that, though he could tell that they were various kinds of trucks, he didn’t know just who had sent them. They could have been more Chronos transports, carrying more Zoanoids to finish them both off now that the – the _Zoalord_ was gone. On the other hand, it could be just normal people coming to see what had happened.

If that was the case, then it was best that they both remove the armor. If any normal people saw the Guyver, Chronos would kill them just so they could keep their secrets. He knew; he’d seen it happen before.

_ +Ryan, do you think you could tell me who those trucks that are coming toward us belong to?+ _

_ +Sure, if you’ll tell me just how I’m supposed to see that far.+ _

Sho shook his head in mild exasperation at himself – he just wasn’t used to having to explain everything like this – and tried to think of a way to explain the Guyver’s hyper-sensors. _+It’s like looking through a pair of binoculars. You just have to think about it if you want to adjust them.+_

_ +All right, I guess that makes sense.+ _

Sho watched as Ryan scanned the approaching vehicles, knowing that the other Guyver was using his hyper-sensors by watching the movement of the metal orbs in their tracks on his head.

_ +It’s fine, Sho. It’s just a bunch of firetrucks and ambulances; unless Chronos owns the local Fire Department or a hospital or two, I think we’re all right.+ _

_ +That’s good,+ _ Sho said, turning to look out at the approaching vehicles himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ryan – after the way his fellow Guyver had protected him from… their mutual enemy, he had at least earned that much – it was just that Sho wanted to confirm for himself what Ryan had said. Scanning deeper with his own hyper-sensors, Sho was able to see that what Ryan had said was indeed true. There _were_ only firetrucks and ambulances heading toward their location.

_ +All right, Ryan, I think we should un-equip our Guyvers; Chronos will attack anyone who sees the Guyver, and I don’t want to get these people involved with them.+ _

_ +That sounds like a good idea; we just will them off, right?+ _

_ +Right,+  _ Sho said, feeling himself starting to calm down.

Once he was out of the Guyver, though, Sho knew that he wouldn’t stay calm. This calm he was feeling was especially fragile, and he would only experience it while he was still in the Guyver’s protective armor. Once he was out, once he could function as a simple human being again, Sho knew that he would inevitably break down and cry. It was just that simple.

As the Guyver disengaged, leaving him standing in the street wearing the clothes that he had borrowed from Ryan, Sho closed his burning eyes and sobbed. He barely noticed when something soft wrapped around him, but he _was_ at least mildly grateful not to have landed on the cold, hard asphalt. Feeling something touching the back of his head, and something very similar wrapped around the middle of his back, Sho tensed for a moment.

Then he remembered just where he was and who was with him.

Ryan was the only one who could be doing this for him, and Sho was thankful to have the younger Guyver’s support. Even though he didn’t really understand what had happened to Mr. Murakami – and there was no way he ever could, since he hadn’t met Mr. Murakami before Chronos had taken him – ~~but~~ it still meant a lot that he had someone to depend on now, of all times. When Sho started hearing people talking, and more than that when he heard Ryan talking back, Sho started to wonder what was going on.

He couldn’t understand many of the words, of course, but from those few that he _could_ make out, and from the one of his voice, Ryan seemed like he was happily surprised to see these people. That was good; if Ryan was happy to see these people, then that meant that there was less chance of them being Zoanoids. Especially since none of them sounded like they were transforming and attacking.

Pulling away so he could see what was going on around them, Sho caught sight of the group of firetrucks and ambulances that had pulled up as close to the two of them as they could get. None of the vehicles could manage to get close to them, what with the giant hole that had been blown in the road that led to where they were standing. In fact, the entire surface of the road had been pockmarked by their battle.

The surface they stood on was battered and scarred, and some of the fluid from the dissolved Zoanoid corpses hadn’t completely evaporated yet. Sho had to wonder what it would look like to someone who hadn’t been there from the start of the battle. Someone like any one of the people who were staring at them now. Looking over at the man who was presumably trying to talk to him – he was facing Sho and looking at him, anyway – Sho found that he looked a lot like Ryan. He had the same red hair and green eyes; the jaw was square where Ryan’s was more rounded; and the hair had been cropped closer to his head. There was also a smattering of pale reddish-brown dots on his cheeks and forehead. They were even on his chin in places, and Sho didn’t know what to make of them.

_ +Ryan, do you know that man?+ _

_ +I sure do, Sho; this is my dad, Norman Crouger. I’d formally introduce the two of you, but there’s that whole language barrier we’d have to work around. Not to mention how I’d even know your name in the first place.+ _

_ +I guess there is that,+  _ Sho acknowledged, still trying to pick up on what Ryan’s father was trying to talk to him about. It almost sounded like he was trying to ask him something. _+Why would your father be here, Ryan? Did they call him from work when they found you? And… is something wrong with him?+_

_ +This is his work, Sho. My dad’s a firefighter. And what do you mean, is something wrong with him?+ _

_ +His face,+  _ Sho said, not wanting to offend Ryan but worried that there his father might be sick. _+It’s covered in these tiny, red dots. Is – does he have some kind of skin disease?+_

_ +Wow, you really need to get out more, Sho. You’ve really never seen someone with freckles before?+ _

_ +Is that what they’re called?+ _

_ +Yeah.+ _

_ +Why don’t you have them then, Ryan?+ _

_ +I inherited Mom’s fair skin, which can be really annoying at times, since whenever we go to the beach I end up having to slather on massive amounts of suntan lotion, or I end up turning red as a freshly cooked lobster. We only go once every two years, so that makes it a little easier to deal with, though.+ _

_ +Oh,+  _ Sho said, not quite sure how else to respond to what Ryan had just said.

He _was_ glad that nothing was wrong with Ryan’s father, though. When the three of them started walking, Ryan’s father guiding them forward almost like he was their bodyguard, Sho looked around. There was now a gathering of reporters – he could tell by the fact that they had cameras and microphones and were shouting what sounded like questions at them – around them. Some of what looked like the local police were attempting to hold them at bay, and Sho was grateful for that.

The fact that he couldn’t understand very much of what they were saying notwithstanding, Sho really didn’t feel like talking about what had happened today. What he really wanted, more than anything else, was to forget that it had happened at all… It was odd that he hadn’t even heard the helicopters landing, though he had to admit that he’d been a bit preoccupied with what had happened to Mr. Murakami and all… Sho bit his lip, trying not to think of that. It wouldn’t help anyone if he started crying again.

They had reached an ambulance by now, and Sho could see Ryan’s father discussing something with the paramedics. He could also feel Ryan standing next to him with an arm over his shoulder, and he wondered why Ryan hadn’t gone with his father.

_ +What’s going on, Ryan?+ _

_ +Dad’s saying that, even though neither of us have any injuries, we really can’t ride home on the firetruck. He’s trying to get us a ride on the ambulance. It’s not going over so well.+ _

_ +Why not?+ _

_ +Well, Dad’s always said that ‘normal’-type doctors don’t tend to respect the opinions of a fireman-paramedic like him. It sounds like it’s some kind of stupid authority issue; Dad’s arguing him down, though. We should be able to get a ride home soon. Well, a ride back to my house, anyway.+ _

_ +That’s good.+ _

Watching as Ryan’s father continued to argue with the ambulance driver, Sho tried again to pick out some of the few English words that he could remember from his time at school. But either he had forgotten more than he thought, or he had just never learned any of the words that Ryan’s father and the doctor were using.

The gestures and the body language, however, were something that he was a bit more familiar with. He could tell that Ryan’s father was either angry or just severely annoyed with the doctor who drove the ambulance. Sho was more willing to believe that he was just annoyed – he wasn’t yelling nearly enough for Sho to think he was angry. Finally, the doctor seemed to give up, stepping aside and letting Ryan’s father move toward the ambulance. Nodding in what Sho took to be satisfaction, Ryan’s father turned and walked back to where he and Ryan were waiting for him.

He and Ryan talked about something in English, and Sho managed to pick out a few words of the conversation. Something about home, and a car, and mother? Maybe Ryan’s mother was going to come home? That brought up the question of why she hadn’t been here in the first place. Sho was sure that _his_ mother would have come to get him if she’d heard that something like this had happened – that is, if she’d still been alive to hear anything at all, Sho mused, sighing.

When Ryan’s father started leading them toward the ambulance, Sho looked over at Ryan. He seemed a bit resigned, and Sho started to wonder why. Neither of them had been captured by Chronos, and Ryan was even getting to go home now. What about that sounded so unappealing to him?


	34. Homecoming

+Ryan? Is something wrong?+

_ +No; I’m fine, Sho.+ _

_ +Then why do you look like someone gave you some really bad news?+ _

_ +When we get back to my place, I’m going to have to think up some really… creative ways of telling this story, just so everyone doesn’t think I’m crazy.+ _

_ +You don’t like having to lie to your family,+  _ Sho said, understanding Ryan’s problem.

He hadn’t liked lying to his father about what he and Tetsuro had been doing, back in the days when things like that mattered.

_ +Oh, I can lie like a cheap whore when I need to – without flinching, no less. I’m just not sure what I can say about a situation like this.+ _

_ +Ryan!+ _

_ +What’s with you?+ _

_ +No one’s really  _ called _you a cheap whore, have they?+_

_ +Well, my principal phrased it more along the lines of a ‘two dollar whore’. I figure that’s pretty cheap, you know?+ _

_ +Your  _ principal _said that to you?!+_

_ +It was actually one of the more pleasant things he’s called me; of course, this was just before I broke every one of his windows and spray painted the inside of his car neon orange. The stupid chump  _ still _hasn’t been able to prove I did that.+_

Ryan’s mental tone was distinctly self-congratulatory, and Sho wasn’t sure what to make of someone who could be proud of lying and would so brazenly admit to destroying someone else’s property. Then again, maybe that was why he had been able to fight so well once he had gotten used to the Guyver; Ryan didn’t seem to have much regard for people he didn’t know or like. Maybe… then Sho decided to just wait and see. It could very well have been for the best that Ryan had gotten his hands on the Guyver. He seemed to be able to make the same kind of levelheaded decisions that Agito had made when they were fighting with each other against Chronos. Speaking of Agito…

_ +Agito, are you there?+ _

_ +Fukamachi? This is a surprise. The last place I saw you was with the Relic in Mt. Minakami.+ _

_ +I know; I remember what happened…+ _

_ +I would think it would be hard to forget, considering the circumstances. Something like that tends to stick in one’s mind. How did you manage to escape from Chronos? And what was that cocoon?+ _

_ +I think it was all that was left of the Relic after that Zoalord got to us.+ _

_ +Really? That does sound plausible. Where were you in the interim? And how did you escape from Chronos?+ _

_ +I- I think I was inside that cocoon.+ _

_ +Hmm; I suspected as much. Now, can you tell me just how you managed to escape from Chronos? Or is that something that the Guyver did subconsciously?+ _

_ +I escaped because of Ryan, or we both escaped because we met. I don’t really know what the exact reason was.+ _

_ +Who is Ryan?+ _

_ +Sorry; I forgot you wouldn’t know about him, Agito. Ryan Crouger is the newest Guyver; I guess there were more than three Units after all.+ _

_ +Interesting. Where are you currently, Fukamachi?+ _

_ +I’m in an ambulance with Ryan; we’re heading for his house.+ _

_ +I meant your geographic location, Fukamachi. Crouger sounds like an American name, but I don’t want to make any assumptions.+ _

_ +Ryan said we were in Colorado Springs. That’s in America, right?+ _

_ +Yes. I should be able to arrange for a transport to come and pick the two of you up. The only problem will be concealing its presence from Chronos’ agents in the area.+ _

_ +Thank you… for thinking of me, Agito.+ _

Sho waited, watching the way that Ryan settled back against the wall of the ambulance as the doctors checked his eyes and – from the sounds of their conversation – asked him some questions, to see if Agito would contact him again. When there was no response from the older Guyver, Sho turned to Ryan again.

_ +Ryan, are you all right? What happened today, it was—+ _

_ +Completely beyond the pale? Yeah, I kind of got that feeling. How are you holding up, Sho? You looked really shaken up after that all went down. Not that I blame you, since that guy seemed to know how to push just about every one of your hot-buttons, but are you feeling better now?+ _

_ +I think I will.+ Maybe… _ Sho thought but didn’t say.

What Mr. Murakami had done… it was against everything that he had ever believed in, against everything he had fought and sacrificed so much for. Had losing his son to Chronos really hurt him so much that he was willing to give up everything that had ever meant anything to him just for the chance that he would be able to see his son again? Privately, Sho wondered if he would have made that choice if he hadn’t had Mizuki and Tetsuro to protect.

Would he have been willing to— But that line of thought wouldn’t get him anywhere; it was in the past, and Sho didn’t want to start thinking about things that he couldn’t hope to change.

Leaning against the wall as the ambulance continued on its way back to Ryan’s house, Sho could feel someone gently squeezing his lower leg. Looking down, Sho found that it was one of the doctors who was applying the light pressure to his calf.

_ +Ryan, what are they doing?+ _

_ +They’re checking for broken bones,+ _ Ryan said, then calmly glanced downward. _+I think the doc wants you to move your ankle around a bit, Sho. Probably wants to check to make sure it’s not misaligned or anything.+_

_ +Thank you, Ryan,+  _ Sho said, moving his right ankle as his fellow Guyver had advised him to.

_ +That’s one of the more serious downsides of being found in what looks like the center of a demolition derby without so much as a scratch on ya; people want to know how you did it,+ _ settling his hands in his lap, Ryan looked at them. _+I’m glad to have my hand back, though. I’d hate to have to explain to Dad how I managed to lose an entire_ hand _. And Mom… Eesh, she’d throw pink fits if she saw me coming back home with only one hand.+_

_ +The Guyver regenerates itself pretty quickly,+  _ Sho said, leaning back against the wall of the ambulance once the doctors had finished examining him.

_ +Yeah, I kind of figured that,+  _ Ryan replied, sounding like he was smiling even though he wasn’t.

_ +I guess you would; sorry.+ _

_ +You should really stop apologizing so much, Sho, especially when it’s not even your fault.+ _

_ +I know, I’m-+ _

_ +If you say you’re sorry again, Sho, I think I might have to kick you in the shin.+ _

It sounded like a joke, and the smile on Ryan’s face seemed to say that he wanted to put Sho at ease, but he didn’t really know if Ryan would get angry if he kept talking. Agito hadn’t been very patient with him, either, so Sho decided to just wait until they had arrived at Ryan’s house. And, soon enough, they had.

The ambulance stopped, and Ryan looked to the doors just as Sho heard them clicking open. The doctors helped them to their feet and gently lowered them to the ground one at a time.

XxXxX

Norma Crouger had been in the middle of her lunch break when word of her son’s possible involvement in a crash between two large transport trucks had reached her ears. Needless to say, she’d been rather confused; the last thing that she had heard – from one of Dr. Ethan Nathaniel’s colleagues, no less – was that Ryan had come down with a rare form of cancer and that he’d had to be transferred to a special treatment center somewhere in the Mediterranean.

To find that he’d been transferred back out, and then nearly killed in a wreck, all without her knowledge was a daunting concept.

She had taken the rest of the day off, letting her fellow neurosurgeons know so that they could take over for her while she went to take care of her son and see if there was anything he needed. Hearing that Norman’s fire unit had been dispatched to that very site had been an interesting coincidence, and if Norma had been one to believe in fate, she probably would have thought that that meant something.

As it was, though, Norma was simply concerned with getting back to her son as quickly as humanly possible, a feat that would have been much easier if not for the constant stop-and-go traffic that she was being forced to endure. Still, she managed to make it back home in time to see the ambulance that had brought her little boy back home pulling away from their house.

She’d be inside to check on him in a minute or two; right now she just had to finish parking the car. Once that job was over and done with, her car safe in the garage beside her husband’s, Norma left without a look back. There wasn’t anything more important to her than seeing that her son was safe and all right. Passing through the kitchen without a second look, Norma made for the living room.

That was where she could hear Ryan and his father talking.

Pausing on the threshold of the living room, Norma saw that there was another person in the room with them, another dark-haired boy who was about five inches shorter than Ryan. She couldn’t tell much more than that from where she was standing, since the boy had his back to her, but Norma wasn’t so interested in him at the moment.

"Ryan!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her son and squeezing tightly.


	35. Odd Man Out

She never wanted to let him out of her sight again, despite the fact that she knew that wasn’t remotely possible. He still had to go to school—he could be kept out for at least a week while he rested from what had to have been an ordeal, but then he would have to go back. It was important that Ryan get an education, no matter how often he complained of being "constantly surrounded by idiots".

Not many people there seemed to properly appreciate Ryan’s irreverent sense of humor, and even fewer seemed to want to get to know him beyond the front that he put up. Ryan was a good boy, maybe a little over-enthusiastic sometimes, but everyone could use a bit of excitement in their lives. Still, the people at Ryan’s school – at least from the way he described them – didn’t seem to want any. To hear Ryan tell it, they were happy being boring.

"Mom! Breathing starting to become an issue here," Ryan called, his voice muffled by something.

"Oh!" Norma let go, watching as Ryan took a few deep breaths. She knew from the way he was carrying on that he was just being melodramatic, but with what he had gone through, she thought he was more than entitled. "I’m sorry about that," she said, grinning as she helped Ryan dust himself off.

"No harm done, Mom," he said, leaning in slightly as she kissed him on the crown of his skull.

"So," she started, looking over at the smaller, dark-haired boy that was standing next to her son. "Who’s your new friend?"

XxXxX

As Sho watched Ryan with his parents, he began to feel a thick, hot pain radiating from the back of his throat. He would never get to have another time like this: talking with his father, having his mother comfort him after an ordeal like the one he and Ryan had gone through… He would never have anything like it ever again.

_ +Ryan, I think you should stay here.+ _

_ +What’d you mean by that, Sho?+ _

_ +When Agito comes, I promise I won’t tell him about you,+  _ Sho swore, fighting not to let any of his emotions show on his face. _+But you should stay here with your family; you deserve at least that much.+_

_ +What are you going on about, Sho? What do you mean, I deserve it? You’re not making any sense.+ _

Watching Ryan’s father as he lifted his son up into an embrace and then ruffled his hair, Sho blinked rapidly to try and stifle his tears. He didn’t want to worry Ryan or his parents, but he also didn’t want to be responsible for taking Ryan away from the people who obviously loved him. Ryan should at least get to enjoy the kind of life that Sho had given up when he became a Guyver.

But then, he remembered that Chronos had seen Ryan’s face; they had heard Ryan’s voice. Mr. Murakami _knew who he was!_

_ +Ryan, maybe you should come with us.+ _

_ +Okay, now you’re starting to confuse me. Do you want me to come with you or not?+ _

_ +You should come; I’ll tell Agito what happened to you. I think he might even be willing to hide your family from Chronos, too.+ _

_ +And now you  _ want _me to come with you. Which is it, Sho?+_ Ryan sounded annoyed and confused, but mostly confused and Sho didn’t want to take the chance of making him angry.

_ +I want you to come, Ryan,+ _ Sho said. _+And I think you should bring your family, too. Agito can protect them from Chronos.+_

Sho, deciding not to mention his own father for fear of the memories it would bring back, looked over at Ryan. The red-haired Guyver was still in the arms of his father, still being comforted by his mother. How could he ask Ryan to give this up? How could he, when he wanted it for himself? He wanted to have both his father and mother back; he wanted to have his father look at him with such loving pride, have his mother smile at him the way Ryan’s did. But his mother was dead, his father was dead, and the closest he could come was to watch Ryan’s small family.

But Chronos was still a threat, and even more so since they had seen Ryan’s face and been to his house. Mr. Murakami had been the one to lead them there, and with what Ryan had done to him… It was really for the best that Ryan and his family evacuate with Agito. Wasn’t it?

_ +You said that you were in Colorado Springs, didn’t you, Fukamachi?+ _

_ +Yes.+ _

_ +Good; I’ll be there very soon. Have you explained to Crouger about Chronos?+ _

_ +I have,+ _ Sho paused for a moment, then decided to tell Agito about what had happened. All of it—maybe it would hurt less to talk about Mr. Murakami now that he’d had some time to fully absorb what had happened. _+Agito, there’s something else I have to tell you.+_

_ +What is it?+ _

_ +It’s— it’s about Mr. Murakami.+ _

_ +Murakami? Murakami was killed back at Relics Point. He’s dead, Fukamachi.+ _

_ +No, he’s not,+  _ Sho said, feeling small and weak and miserable.

_ +What do you mean by that?+ _

_ +Mr. Murakami – he was— he was taken by Chronos. They… did something to him. He’s a Zoalord; he— he works for them now.+ _

_ +What?!+ _

Sho, not feeling up to repeating what he had just said, turned back to watching Ryan and his family. But that hurt, too; it served as a reminder of what he would never – _could_ never – be able to have again. Ryan’s father loved him; that much was obvious. And his mother… Sho could just barely remember his own mother, and what memories he had were blunted by the passage of time. She had been kind – he could recall that much at least.

The focus of his memories was mostly on his father, on trying to think of the good times they’d had together. Before Chronos; before the Zoanoids; before he’d ever found the Guyver and had every possibility of a normal life destroyed. Before… everything had gone wrong.

And now it was happening all over again, to someone who’d risked his life to try and save him. Ryan was a good person, if a bit too intense for his taste at times; he didn’t deserve to have his life destroyed by Chronos. Of course, there were times that Sho wondered just what _he_ had done to deserve all of the horror that he and his friends had lived through since Chronos had come into their lives. Tetsuro and Mizuki… they probably didn’t even know that he had survived that last battle. Or maybe Agito had told them already…

_ +Agito?+ _

_ +What is it, Fukamachi?+ _

_ +Have you been in contact with Mizuki and Tetsuro?+ _

_ +No. I haven’t contacted any of them. I am certain that that would be the first thing Chronos expects us to do, and I don’t want to make it any easier for them to find us than the discovery of Crouger and Murakami’s information would.+ _

_ +I understand.+ _


	36. Nighttime Reflections

Turning over slightly, Aptom propped his head on his right hand and looked over the sleeping forms of the two Lost Units sharing what he had originally claimed as _his_ bed. Bio Freezer and Felinos; they might have gone by different names when they were talking to their little friends, but that still didn’t change what they were. They were his fellow Lost Units now.

‘Freezer had asked him just why he insisted on calling himself a Lost _Unit_ instead of a Lost _Number_ ; he’d blown the guy off with a sarcastic remark, and when the cat had decided that he just had to know, too, he’d told them both to get bent. If they didn’t understand without him having to explain it to them, then they weren’t likely to understand even with his help.

But Lost Units were different than any other kind of Zoanoid. It wasn’t that there was something wrong with them like Chronos said; they were a _unit_ – brethren, even if they had never met before. It was the only thing that any of them had, the only thing that Chronos couldn’t take away from them or make them give up. But ‘Freezer and Felinos hadn’t become Lost Units under Chronos. They’d done it to themselves to save their own lives, and that was what made it so difficult to explain to them just what kind of difference a single word could make.

He wasn’t all that good with words, either. At least, not those of the explaining type. Somlum had always been the one to comfort and reassure the others when they had needed it. He himself had always been the one to threaten the people that had been giving his brethren a hard time, even when that had ended up earning him a stay in the clutches of those bastard lab rats.

But then, ‘Freezer and the cat had once been Chronos’ lab rats themselves. From what he’d heard, though, they hadn’t worked with Lost Units. That also fit with the way they spoke to and about him. Neither of them had called him a ‘worthless Lost Number’ or any of the other shit he’d heard from the other lab rats. Felinos’ insults tended more towards the ‘insane pervert’ side of the spectrum. ‘Freezer had never insulted him, but he _had_ told him once that his little feud with Feline Face was incredibly juvenile.

He’d told the guy to go jump, of course.

It was kind of fun to rile ol’ Feline Face up, and he had to admit that his fellow Lost Unit could give just as good as he got – at least once he had time to realize that Aptom was well and truly determined to screw with him. He had to admit, Feline Face’s whole jump-out-of-the-closet-and-try-to-forcibly-dress-him idea had been a stroke of demented genius, even if it _had_ ended up with both of them tangled in the shredded remains of someone else’s shirt and pants.

It’d been fun, and he’d had precious little of that since resigning himself to being stuck here babysitting Guyver I’s moronic friends. They were just lucky that Chronos hadn’t managed to take over the world, since they’d _really_ be fucked if that happened. Especially given that Little Miss Shizu was teetering on the edge of insanity without her precious boy-toy Agito to keep her company. She was without question one of the most truly pathetic people that it had ever been his displeasure to meet, and he’d met a lot of truly pathetic people during the time he’d worked for Chronos.

But now wasn’t the time to think about Little Miss Shizu and whatever her many and varied psychoses were. Now it was time for him to think of a way to get back at Feline Face for the tomato incident. Looking back over his shoulder at the window, covered though it was, he noticed that it was just a bit lighter than it had been. That meant that morning was coming, and _that_ meant that he was going to have to think of something _quickly_.

After all, there were few better times to play a prank than at breakfast.

XxXxX

When he had gotten word that Fukamachi had survived the debacle at Relics Point, he had not been surprised – the younger boy _was_ a Guyver, after all. They weren’t easy to kill, but the fact that the other had met up with yet another Guyver was a surprise indeed. He’d been fairly certain that there were only three Guyver units in existence. Of course, the fact that he’d been able to deceive them for so long proved that Chronos was not omniscient the way some people liked to believe.

There was always the chance that Chronos had been unaware of the existence of this Guyver, but however this new Guyver had come into being, it was unquestionably a boon to his own plans. Even one more Guyver would be useful to him, and his agents at Chronos had been reporting that there were sightings of yet another Guyver. This one had been allegedly sighted working with the Anti Chronos Task Force.

The Anti Chronos Task Force seemed to be a counterpart to his own Thunderbolts, another para-military group that was working to wipe Chronos from the face of the Earth. They might prove troublesome to his plans later on, but for now the two groups had the same goal. Now he was biding his time, waiting for his moles in Chronos to pass him the information he would need to determine if they would be worth forming a working relationship with.

But for now there was the matter of Ryan Crouger, the newly discovered Guyver from Colorado. The Fifth Guyver, if the reports of a Guyver cooperating with the Anti Chronos Task Force were indeed accurate.

While he knew that he could trust his soldiers to bring this new Guyver to meet with him, he still preferred to handle these kinds of things personally. Besides, Chronos had a large processing facility operating in that area. Destroying the facility would be a way of striking a powerful blow against them while seeing just what this Ryan Crouger boy was truly capable of.

He truly hoped that this newcomer would not be like Fukamachi in so many ways – while the younger Guyver was easy to manipulate because of his various weaknesses, his other weaknesses made him easy prey for Chronos’ manipulations. The debacle with Murakami had proved that beyond any doubt.

It was odd to think that Murakami had become one of Chronos’ loyal Zoalords, especially given how much the man had hated Chronos and how obvious his hatred of the organization had been. Then again, Murakami _had_ been a prototype Zoalord, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for him to be reprocessed, and those Zoalords _had_ been given complete, uncontested access to Murakami’s body…

It was a generally troublesome situation, but there wasn’t really anything that any of them could do about it now. Best to focus on those things that _could_ be dealt with.

The transport that he had arranged for himself, a reasonably small and nondescript helicopter, made its way across the Pacific Ocean on its way to the appointed landing site. It wouldn’t be possible for him to go from Japan to Colorado in one stop – the limits of his transport’s fuel tanks notwithstanding, doing so would invite too much notice from Chronos. The large processing facility in the area, and all of the Zoanoids that would inevitably be staffing it, made it more urgent than usual that he remain undetected by them.

His landing point in Maine, aside from being a refueling stop for his helicopter, was also necessary for him to maintain his all-important cover. Fukamachi and this Ryan Crouger would simply have to deal with any Zoanoids that they happened to encounter while he was in transit. He was at least reasonably certain that Fukamachi would be able to handle any of the lesser Zoanoid models that were sent against him.

It was the matter of Murakami’s subversion that gave him more cause for concern, as anyone who had known Fukamachi for as long as he had would know how weak he was, how sentimental. With Murakami fighting on the side of their enemies, it was almost a certainty that Fukamachi would falter whenever he was faced with the Zoalord who had been one of his closest companions. Still, Ryan Crouger had never known Murakami as anything but an enemy, and if he was still alive after having faced the Zoalord – a fact that Fukamachi’s report gave him no reason to question – then having him to deal with Murakami could prove advantageous.

Still, time would tell what kind of person this Ryan Crouger was, what kind of use he would have to his own plans in the long run.

Stepping out of his helicopter under the cover of his aides and soldiers of the Thunderbolts he was gathering to himself – the few of them that he had managed to recruit at this early stage anyway – Agito kept his eyes and other senses trained for a glimpse of any of Chronos’ various agents. The fact that they believed him to be dead gave him at least some latitude, but it would be remiss to rely too much on such a perception.

Perceptions could easily be changed.

XxXxX

Those new Zoanoids – the Guyver-killer Enzyme II, a name that always made Sean wonder what had happened to the original Enzyme – were starting to show up more often. They were now the main type of model that Chronos seemed to be producing. The newly formed Armored Hunter Division was the one more equipped to deal with those kinds of Zoanoids: their armor had been modified with a special kind of resin that helped to defuse the effects of the acid that was that Zoanoid type’s most potent weapon.

That was a good thing as far as Sean was concerned, though he was still a little surprised that Chronos had managed to make even a single Zoanoid that was too powerful for him to beat, much less make the kind of thing that was probably fully capable of killing him. And then to mass-produce those creatures… Cori and her fellow researchers were trying to find a way to kill those things more quickly, maybe even make Chronos give up on using them at all.

That would be the best outcome, though what he really hoped for was another Guyver. But that was a stupid kind of thing to hope for, since there had only been two Guyvers on Earth: he and Crane had been the only Guyvers that there were or ever could be.

Leaning back in his bed, he tried to make himself relax. There would probably be another combat drill to break in the newly shipped Beta units. It was important that he be at full strength for that. The Guyver seemed to react to both his state of body _and_ his state of mind; he’d found that it was more responsive if he was rested and thinking clearly when he used it. The weapons were all controlled by his mind, after all, and the Guyver was pretty much an extension of his body.

Closing his eyes and lying back on his pillow, Sean tried to clear his mind again. Jazmine, one of the ACTF’s weapons experts and a formidable sharpshooter, had been trying to teach him some meditation techniques, but none of them had quite seemed to take yet. The fact was that he couldn’t stop thinking about those Enzyme IIs; they’d already earned the nickname Type Two among the Hunter Division.

He hadn’t given much thought to that; it was just something the others – people who actually stood some sort of chance against the things that were made to kill him – called those Zoanoids. Atkins had said that it was a mark of the progress they were making against Chronos, that they would go to all the trouble of creating massive numbers of Zoanoids that were engineered for the sole purpose of killing him.

That thought wasn’t as flattering as Atkins probably thought it would be.

After fifteen minutes of not being able to rest no matter how much he wanted to, Sean rolled over on his side and faced the wall – maybe just staring at it until he fell asleep would work. It took ten minutes of doing nothing and still not falling asleep, before Sean finally gave that up for a bad job. There was a tape of relaxing music that Cori had made for him to use in just these kinds of situations, since she knew how important it was for him to get a good, restful sleep.

Putting the tape into the stereo she’d bought for him, Sean closed his eyes and rolled over on his back to sleep. Finally, the music started to lull him the way nothing else had been able to no matter what he had done before. Settling down for what was either going to be a short or a long nap, Sean closed his eyes and drifted off, the music still providing a soothing aural background for him to sleep to.


	37. Friendly Advice

It was a while before he’d managed to fully clean the raw eggs out of his hair, and by that time he’d started laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. Who knew that Feline Face had that good of a throwing arm, or that little Natsuki would have been willing to let him use up an entire carton of eggs just to get back at him? Of course, it probably had something to do with the truly massive amount of salt and vinegar he’d put into those eggs – the ones that had ended up being cooked rather than thrown at his head, of course.

He wasn’t one to easily admit when he was beaten; any of those bastard Hyper Zoanoids would have been able to attest to that, if they weren’t all taking up space in his gullet, that was. Thinking of those saps always made him chuckle, and this time wasn’t any exception to that rule. Laughing as he stepped out from under the showerhead and shook himself off, making sure not to splatter any water where it wouldn’t go down the drain, since he didn’t want to get another lecture, he left the shower and grabbed a towel.

He’d never quite noticed the more bizarre changes to his anatomy until he’d had ‘Freezer and Feline Face to point them out. Still, the fact that he didn’t have sweat glands anymore didn’t preclude him from enjoying a good, hot shower. It just meant that he didn’t get them as often as he would have liked. Natsuki’d said that they needed to conserve water, at least to the point where no one would think that there were _eight_ different people sharing this one apartment with each other. Someone was bound to come and investigate if they thought that there was something strange going on here, and that someone could very easily be from Chronos.

With his towel, or at least the one that he had been using every time he decided to take a shower, wrapped around his waist to avoid both the weird looks from the other people who lived in the apartment and Feline Face’s attempted ‘dressing’, he made his way back to their room. Feline Face was lounging on the bed, reading some book or other, but he looked up as soon as he heard the door closing, and he smirked when he saw Aptom.

"Well, I see you managed to get all of the egg out of your hair," Feline Face said, smirking as he turned to look at him, then turned back to his book with that same irritating smirk on his irritating face.

"Yeah, no thanks to you."

"Well, that’s what you get for trying to set my tongue on fire," Feline Face said, still wearing that smirk.

"I’m going to get you back for this, you know," he shot back.

"You know you’re perfectly welcome to _try_ ," Feline Face said, turning to grin at him. "I can’t make any guarantees about the state you’ll be in afterward, though."

"Are you two still having that ridiculous feud of yours?" ‘Freezer asked as he came back into their room.

"No, we’d moved on to obliquely threatening one another when you came in," Feline Face said. "What have you been doing lately, Toshi-kun?"

"I’ve been apologizing to our generous hosts for _your_ antics," ‘Freezer said, sweeping his arm to include both of them in his little condemnation. "The _least_ you could have done after provoking Howard to pelt you with eggs was to stay and help clean up the kitchen."

"No, the _least_ I could have done was absolutely nothing," he grinned. "Which I already did, I might add."

‘Freezer gave him The Look for that one, and Aptom didn’t even bother trying not to stick his tongue out at the guy. This wasn’t Chronos, after all, and even though his two new comrades were former lab rats, he knew that they didn’t have any more love for the company than he did. Once they had inevitably found out that his diet consisted solely of Chronos-produced Zoanoids, there had been only a slight amount of freaking out.

Tetsuro, the fat kid who was always hanging around with Sho, had seemed really eager to talk to him after that choice little revelation. There were even times when the kid would all but shadow him in his eagerness to get just one more piece of information out of him. It could be kind of annoying at times, but if there was one thing he was good at besides pissing off Chronos, it was not being seen.

Those skills of his were getting a real workout around that Tetsuro, so he supposed that he could think of the whole "stalking" issue as a chance to practice his evasion skills. It was kind of fun to play a game where the penalty of losing was just being pestered for a few hours about what kind of things you did all day as opposed to getting blasted or torn apart or some other generally unpleasant thing like that. He supposed he could even be grateful to the little butterball.

He wasn’t ever going to admit that, even under pain of torture, of course – he still had _some_ pride, at least.

XxXxX

When he realized that Agito wasn’t there with him, and that the other Guyver probably wouldn’t be coming for quite some time, he didn’t know what to do at first.

_ +Hey! Yo, Sho!+ _

_ +Ryan?+ _

_ +You looked like you just got a shock about a second ago. What’s up?+ _

_ +I don’t think Agito’s going to be here for a while,+  _ he said, looking back at Ryan’s family. They were still talking, with Ryan putting in the occasional word of his own. _+I don’t know what I’m going to be able to do.+_

_ +You know, that’s about the third time you’ve mentioned that Agito guy, and you still haven’t told me who he is.+ _

_ +I’m sorry; Agito is the other Guyver, one that I’ve known from almost the first time that I equipped the Guyver.+ _

_ +Well, I guess if he’s a friend of yours, then I pretty much have to like him. What’s he like, just for future reference?+ _

How to even describe Agito? _+I… I really wouldn’t know what to say about him?+_

_ +You trying to be nice, or is he really all that enigmatic?+ _

_ +He’s… he’s not someone who can be summed up in just a few words. I don’t even think I know him all that well, myself.+ _

_ +Well  _ that _sounds really reassuring. I can’t_ wait _to meet the guy in person.+_

Something in Ryan’s tone didn’t sound quite right to him. _+Ryan, were you being sarcastic?+_

_ +Kinda, yeah. In my experience, guys who try too hard to be all enigmatic and stuff either have some serious issues that they don’t want you to find out about, or they just like screwing with people for the fun of it. Believe me, I’ve had close encounters with both types; it’s not pretty.+ _

He really didn’t think that Agito was anything like the people that Ryan had described, but then again, he didn’t know him all that well, even with all the time that they had spent together. Maybe Agito did have something to hide the way Ryan had said. Privately, he didn’t think that Agito was the type to enjoy playing mind games, but he wasn’t going to say that. Still, none of that helped solve the problem of just where he was going to stay while he was waiting for his fellow Guyver to come.

_ +Ryan, do you know anywhere I might be able to stay? I’m afraid I don’t have any money, but I don’t want to trouble you and your family anymore.+ _

_ +I think I know a place you’d be comfortable. They don’t charge you anything, and you can even get hot meals and access to the TV – at least when someone else isn’t watching it.+ _

_ +Where is that, Ryan? Can you take me there soon?+ _

_ +Right here, Sho. You’re standing in it,+ _ Ryan said, sounding like he wanted to laugh but was restraining himself.

_ +Your house? Are you sure your parents would want me here?+ _ he asked, not wanting to be a burden to anyone if he could help it, especially not to someone who had already done so much for him. _+I mean, I think I might be able to find another place to stay.+_

_ +With no money and no English skills? Get real, Sho. We’ve got a guest room we can get you all set up in.+ _

_ +What about your parents?+ _

_ +You just leave them to me.+  _ Ryan’s tone was confident, and for a moment Sho thought that the younger Guyver would be able to take on anyone. But he didn’t like the idea of Ryan having to lie to his parents again. _+You really don’t have to do this for me. I’m sure I can find somewhere else to stay.+_

_ +Don’t try to go all noble on me, Sho. We both know you’re not going to be able to get anywhere with your complete lack of familiarity with the area, so just shut up and let me work, all right?+ _

There was no particular malice in Ryan’s tone, but he _was_ starting to sound exasperated, so Sho let the subject drop.


	38. Candidate for Zoanoid

The candidates had been selected, with no more input from Imakarum’s son than to "make sure they were real strong," though he honestly hadn’t been expecting more than the most rudimentary criteria from the child. A Zoalord he may very well have been, but that did not change the fact that he was a child. Fried’rich knew this better than most, though the staff of Cloud Tower had come to realize it as well.

They treated him fairly for the most part, though a fair number of the human staff were leery around the boy at present. It was only to be expected, though – the thought of something like that happening to such a young child was an anathema to him as well.

There was simply no way to return Imakarum’s son to the way he had been before coming into contact with the former Zoalord Reholt Gyou, to say nothing of the forced-growth he had been put through before he had been processed. The fact remained that the Zoalord process was irreversible once completed. The child was adapting, as children often did, to his new body and the power that came with it. Still, Fried’rich knew that he was not alone in wishing that the boy once named Kenji Murakami had never been forced to endure such things as he had.

The reports on the progress of the child’s Alvix model Zoanoids sat on his desk; he had already perused them and made note of the important information. Kenji had asked that he hide them, just in case Imakarum came in and saw them. He’d smiled indulgently and then explained to the boy that there was very little chance of his father finding the progress reports unless he decided to search Fried’rich’s desk.

He’d gone on to explain that Imakarum, favored though he seemed to be by Lord Alkanphel, would not be so rude as to impinge on another Zoalord’s private space without expressed permission, which he did not have in this case. Kenji had seemed satisfied by this explanation. Now all that remained was to finalize the Alvix as a viable breed of Standard Zoanoid.

There would be a waiting period of five more weeks while that was taken care of, and Kenji seemed to be getting impatient to inform his father of his accomplishments. He _had_ told the boy that he was welcome to tell Imakarum if that was what he truly desired, but he had been rebuffed rather completely: Kenji obviously had his heart set on presenting his father with a finalized Zoanoid model. Fried’rich could understand his motivation – the desire to please a parent was probably almost instinctive for any child – but learning the value of patience was hard for someone his age.

Growing up was like that for any child, however, and Fried’rich was not going to coddle the boy simply because he had endured so many hardships in his short life. Imakarum himself did more than enough of that. Not being the boy’s father gave him the opportunity to see the boy in a way that he doubted Imakarum ever would.

The child was staying in the lower levels of Cloud Tower, separated from the Lost Numbers by seven levels. It would not be good for a Zoalord, especially a child like Kenji, to be exposed to Lost Number Zoanoids. They couldn’t be controlled by any means that a Zoalord could employ and were likely to attack him or attempt to trap him down in the lower levels.

Imakarum would be displeased if his son came to harm while he was under the care of the staff of Cloud Tower. Given how overprotective the man tended to be, he was more than likely to kill those responsible. It was best not to take such chances with the lives of both his staff and the life of Imakarum’s son.

The group of six Alvix models were a mere week and a half from completing their processing; Kenji would be pleased when he heard that.

Still, there were more important things that had to be taken care of before he could tell the boy that the Zoanoids he had had a hand in creating were nearly ready to be presented to his father. There were still the matters of the Anti Chronos Task Force and the Fourth and Fifth Guyvers to consider.

The fact that the boy had managed to escape from the Dead Sea Plant, a place where the security was very tight and there were hundreds of thousands of Zoanoids to deal with any escapees, was not something that gave him a great deal of confidence. That he had also met up with the First Guyver, as Imakarum had reported when he had battled them and Shin had confirmed from his own observations, was also worrisome. There would be a great deal of work needed to locate the First and Fifth Guyvers.

The Zoanoids among the Colorado Springs Police had informed Shin that Sho Fukamachi and Ryan Crouger had left for the latter’s house. That would make it a great deal easier to locate them. Shin had ordered some of his Zoanoids to monitor the neighborhood where the boy lived in case that one of them was to leave the house. Such a method would make it a great deal easier to find and capture the two boys.

Now all that remained was to wait them out.

XxXxXxX

It had been two and a half weeks since he had been invited to stay with Ryan at his house. The guest room was a great deal larger than the room he’d had at home, but sleeping on the bed was a new enough experience that he didn’t get very much sleep. The breakfasts that Ryan’s mother had cooked for him were delicious, and he couldn’t help but feel that he should be doing something more for her than what he was doing. Ryan was the one who took out the trash (though there weren’t as many kinds as he was used to) and cleared off the table when the meal was done.

He’d tried to offer to do that himself, but since he didn’t understand much of what they were saying, and he didn’t think they understood him, there really wasn’t any way for him to offer anything to them. He didn’t like that very much, but there really wasn’t anything that he could do about that. There had been times that he’d vacuumed the floor or swept the kitchen for them, but he still didn’t feel like it was enough sometimes. Ryan had offered him a place in his home and food to eat while he was there; he should have been able to do something to help.

_ +Fukamachi?+ _

_ +Agito? Are you going to be here soon?+ _

_ +I will be at the house by the end of the day. It will take me some time to locate the signal from yours and Crouger’s Guyvers.+ _

_ +I’ll tell him that you’ll be here soon. What are you going to do about his family?+ _

_ +I’ll have my soldiers take them into protective custody,+ _ he said.

_ +I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that,+ _ he answered, smiling. _+I’ll go tell him.+_

_ +Very well, then. I will speak to you later, Fukamachi.+ _

When he could no longer hear Agito’s voice inside his head, Sho turned and headed for Ryan’s room. He had to tell the other Guyver what was going to be happening soon – there wasn’t much time for them to get ready to leave the house. Still, it was better that they leave as soon as they could, rather than wait for Chronos to capture them.

_ +Ryan?+ _

_ +What is it, Sho?+ _

_ +Can I come in?+ _ he asked, standing outside Ryan’s door.

_ +Sure, what did you want to talk about?+  _ Ryan asked, as he opened the door and let Sho in.

They both made for Ryan’s bed, where Sho noticed one of Ryan’s large, flimsy, full-color manga lying spread out. It was still open, so he’d probably been reading it when Sho had knocked.

_ +So, sit down and tell me what’s on your mind.+ _

Sitting down on Ryan’s bed once the younger boy had cleared a space for him, Sho took a deep breath. He didn’t know quite how to phrase what he was going to say, but maybe it was best that he said it and didn’t worry so much about how it sounded.

_ +Agito’s going to come today, Ryan. He’s going to be taking your family into protective custody, since Chronos is probably going to be coming after them, too… after what you did to Mr. Murakami.+ _

_ +You’re talking about that crazy guy who tried to kill me?+  _ Ryan paused, then before Sho could think up an answer, he started speaking again. _+I don’t think that guy’s who you think he is, Sho. He really didn’t seem to like it when you called him Murakami, either.+_

_ But that’s who he  _ is _…_ he couldn’t help thinking, though Ryan most likely would have started arguing with him about it. He’d never known Mr. Murakami, and he probably wouldn’t understand. It was best not to bring it up again, he decided.


	39. Acting the part

+Anyway, when’s your buddy going to get here? I like to plan these things ahead of time, and breaking this kind of thing to my parents isn’t going to be easy.+

_ +I never thought of that,+ _ he admitted, feeling stupid and thoughtless. _+I’m sorry.+_

_ +You couldn’t have known; stop apologizing for stupid stuff.+ _

Sho sat back; Ryan had sounded more annoyed than he’d ever heard him sound before. _+I guess he’s going to get here at the end of the day – Agito, I mean. You’ll have time to tell your family about what happened, time to explain what Chronos is and what they do.+ Time I never really had,_ Sho thought semi-bitterly.

But then that wasn’t really true. He’d had more time than Ryan to tell his father what had been going on in his life, what he’d been doing while he was away from the house for all those sleepless nights and strange days. He’d just thought that his father would have been safer – less prone to worry or try to help and thereby endanger himself – if he didn’t know what his son was actually doing. He’d been painfully, horribly wrong: his father had been only one of many casualties of the battle he and Chronos fought.

And now Mr. Murakami… Mr. Murakami was… He couldn’t even bring himself to _think_ it: thinking it would make it real, and reality was not a pleasant place for him now.

_ +So, is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?+ _

His thoughts brought firmly back to the room he was in and the bed he was sitting on by Ryan’s mental voice, Sho considered the question. _+No; there really isn’t anything more I can think of at the moment, Ryan, but I’ll let you know if anything comes up.+_

_ +You do that,+  _ Ryan said, nodding. _+I’ll see you at lunch.+_

_ +See you, Ryan.+ _

Leaving the other Guyver to his reading, Sho turned and left the room.

XxXxXxX

It had taken most of the day to trace the signals from Fukamachi and Crouger’s Guyver units, but in the end he had managed to find the place where Guyvers I and V were staying. It was a modest suburban home – modest for this area, at least. Back in Japan, owning a place like this would have been considered quite prestigious. But those kinds of thoughts served no purpose for him here; it was best that he concentrate on the task ahead.

He still did not know how Crouger would react to the situation he had stumbled into; Fukamachi’s description painted the other Guyver as being a levelheaded sort, but anyone who knew him knew that Fukamachi was not a good judge of character.

_ +Fukamachi, are you well?+ _

_ +Agito?+ _ the younger Guyver paused for a moment, though whether to gather his thoughts or contemplate his current situation Agito neither knew nor particularly cared. _+Yes, I’m fine. Ryan and his family are talking in his living room.+_

_ +Have you told him that I will be coming today?+ _

_ +I did.+ _

_ +And how did he react?+ _ he asked, somewhat annoyed that he even had to pose the question. Fukamachi was not the brightest of people, true, but even he should have been able to anticipate that Agito would want to know how Crouger had responded.

_ +He wished that he had been given more time to deal with things; he said he likes to plan ahead.+ _

_ Some decent news for a change, _ he mused. If Crouger had said that, then he did indeed sound like the type of person who would be able to handle himself – certainly much better than another weak-willed boy like Fukamachi. Still, best to make his own assessment. There might be other factors at play.

XxXxXxX

Sitting in Ryan’s living room, hearing the conversation that the other Guyver was having with his parents, it seemed to Sho that he was having a hard time convincing them. Sho could make an educated guess as to what they were talking – or rather, disagreeing – about. Ryan was talking – and sometimes gesturing – animatedly while his parents sat back on the long couch and stared at him.

He could only make out a few words of the discussion, due both to his rusty English skills and the speed they were all speaking at. A knock at the door caused Ryan to pause, looking mildly curious about who was doing the knocking. When the younger Guyver got up, waving to his parents as his mother started to rise from her seat, Sho turned to watch him leave. Judging by the looks on all three faces, Ryan wasn’t have the best time getting through to his parents.

_ +Things aren’t going well, are they Ryan?+ _

_ +I think the phrase ‘so happy I could stick a fork in my eye’ just about covers it.+ _

_ +Oh.+ _

He watched as Ryan left, wishing that there was a way he could help his parents understand the urgency of the situation their son was facing, but like Ryan had said, there was still a language barrier. Hearing Ryan’s voice again, just for a few seconds, before he came striding back into the living room with an expression of slight annoyance on his face, Sho turned to look his way again.

_ +Who was that, Ryan?+ _

_ +Some guy.+ _

When he sat back down on the couch next to his family, speaking to them in the same hurried tone he’d been using for the entire conversation, Sho started to wonder just when Agito was going to make it here. Surely he could help Ryan explain the situation to his mother and father – having another Guyver who could likely speak English could only help Ryan’s case.

_ +Fukamachi?+ _

_ +Agito! I was wondering if you were going to contact me again before you got here; are you going to be here soon?+ _

_ +I am here, Fukamachi,+ _ Agito said, sounding mildly irritated. _+Do you know why Crouger closed the door in my face?+_

_ +He did?+  _ he asked, turning to look back at Ryan as he spoke with his parents. _+Why do you think he would do something like that?+_

_ +I’m sure I don’t know. Now could you tell Crouger why I’m here?+ _

_ +Of course,+ _ he said, nodding. _+Ryan, Agito’s here. He says you closed the door in his face? Why did you do that?+_

_ +We get a lot of door-to-door morons around here; I just figured he was one of them. I guess I’ll go let him in now, yeah?+ _

_ +I think that would be best.+ _

Ryan, levering himself out of his seat, waved his hands in what looked to Sho like a placating gesture to his parents, and made his way back to the front of the house. From where he was sitting, he could hear Ryan and Agito talking. He couldn’t understand that conversation any more than he had understood the one between Ryan and his parents, but he was glad to know that the three of them were back together at last.

That meant they would be able to leave soon.

He didn’t quite know why Chronos hadn’t sent any Zoanoids to the house, even with all the time they had been spending there, but he was glad for whatever it had been that had protected them. But, now that Agito was here and could help Ryan explain things to his parents, they could leave before Chronos decided to come for them.


	40. Moving Out

The presence of the clipboard in the hands of the little butterball let him know just how long and involved this little Q&A session was going to be. It was his own fault, really – he’d been lolling around the main room after hiding all of ‘Freezer’s shoes in the bathtub. Either fact could have been responsible for his current situation.

Still, just because he’d been cornered by the butterball and was now going to have to talk to him, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun with the kid. Of course, the fact that Tetsuro seemed to either be genuinely interested in him or very good at faking things like that made the situation more bearable. He might even give the kid some actual _information_ as opposed to just some crap that sounded plausible. He’d been in his own body more than long enough to figure out what was what for himself, after all.

As the session began, with Tetsuro looking like some bright and eager little five-year-old – or maybe like a chubby little squirrel – he started to genuinely enjoy the whole question-and-answer thing. Not that he’d be telling the little butterball any of that, but maybe if the kid was as smart as he thought he was, he’d figure that out on his own. Sitting back in his chair as Tetsuro started to sort through his notes, looking like he was trying to figure out what, if anything, he wanted to ask next, Aptom smirked slightly.

Even though he was going to leave soon, what with getting bored cooped up in this place and wanting to go hunt some of those tasty Zoanoids that had been showing up more and more often lately, he could at least offer some answers to the kid who had been so persistent in pursuing them. _Some._ Maybe not all and maybe not most, but he would give him a few.

During a lull in the conversation, Aptom sat back and looked at his cards. One of the things he couldn’t quite figure out about the kid was why he had such a fetish for playing Go Fish; it really didn’t seem like a game the kid would have been interested in. It seemed too "kiddy" for someone who was trying to find out everything he could about Chronos’ genetic-manipulation methods. It was kind of an interesting dichotomy, how Tetsuro presented himself versus what people would think from hearing about him.

And he really had to stop thinking about things like that before even _he_ started to think he’d gone soft in the head. Putting down his cards when it looked like ol’ Tetsuro had thought up another question to ask him, though what was on that clipboard if it wasn’t the questions he’d already thought to ask, Aptom wasn’t sure, he waited for the kid to start talking again. When he did, Aptom rested a hand on his cards and started to speak in his turn.

Thinking about his past with Chronos wasn’t something that he liked to do all that often. In fact he really preferred to avoid the subject whenever possible, but with this kid he could make something of an exception. Not enough that he’d be forced to relive any truly horrific memories, but enough that he’d give the little butterball a good look at what being a Lost Unit in Chronos really meant.

That would probably be enough to scare him off asking ever again.

XxXxXxX

Mr. Fried’rich had told him that the people who were going to be the first group of Alvix Zoanoids had been chosen today, but he’d also said that Dad was back now. That meant that he couldn’t go check on his Alvix and see how they were doing, since he really didn’t want Dad to find out about them until they were done. Mr. Fried’rich had said he would take care of the Alvix while Dad was around, so that was nice to know. He’d also said that he would call him when they were done, and Kenji thought that was really nice of him. He’d thanked Mr. Fried’rich and hugged him a little, too. 

Now he was sitting in their room, waiting for Dad to get back. When the door opened and his dad walked into the room, Kenji tried really hard not to look like he was trying not to say something.

"Kenji, is something wrong?"

He shook his head, really hoping that Dad would be happy with that and wouldn’t ask him any more questions. He really, really wanted his Alvix Zoanoids to be a surprise.

"Kenji, there’s no need for you to hide things from me. I can protect you from anything that troubles you, my son," Dad said, and then put his hand on his shoulder. "Now, what is it that you’re so troubled about?"

"Nothing, Dad," he said.

"Kenji." Dad was looking really serious now. "I know you don’t like to worry me about things, but I only want to know what’s going on so I can help you. If you don’t tell me, then I can’t take care of you very well. And I only want to know because I worry about you when I’m away, just like you worry about me when I’m not here. Do you understand that, Kenji-chan?"

He nodded; he really didn’t want to worry Dad, especially not when there was really nothing going on. Dad had enough to think about; he was busy a lot of the time, so when he did get to come home, he had to want to rest. That’s what Kenji would have wanted to do if _he’d_ been working all day.

"I understand, but there’s really nothing going on, Dad."

"Is that true, or are you just saying that so I won’t worry about you?"

"It’s nothing, really. Mr. Purg’stall has been taking really good care of me."

"I’m glad to hear that, Kenji-chan. Now what are you hiding from me?"

"I’m not hiding anything from you, Dad," he lied, feeling a little bad but not wanting to spoil the surprise he had before it was all ready.

"I know you’re not telling me the truth, Kenji-chan. Now if something’s been going on here that you don’t like, I want to know about it so I can do something."

"But, Dad… it’s a _secret._ "

XxXxXxX

Kenji didn’t really seem to understand that all he wanted to do was to protect him. Whatever was going on, it was clearly causing Kenji distress, and the last thing Imakarum wanted was for Kenji to be uncomfortable in any way. But since Kenji seemed determined to keep whatever was bothering him a secret, Imakarum knew that the only way he was going to find out what Kenji was so worried about was to… find out from him directly.

He didn’t particularly like the idea of doing… something like that to his son, but he knew it was the only way to find out what had been troubling him.

Gently wrapping Kenji in his arms, as if he was merely going to cuddle the boy, Imakarum gently touched their foreheads together. Subtly working himself into his son’s mind, he found that Kenji wasn’t distressed after all, merely excited. He also found that he’d inadvertently spoiled a surprise that Kenji had been preparing for him. He’d have to apologize for that, of course.

Still, Kenji’s safety came first above all other concerns. He’d explain that to Kenji when he apologized. The boy would understand – everything he did was to protect him from harm, after all.

XxXxXxX

It had taken some time to explain things to Crouger’s parents, even with the headway that Crouger himself had started to make. In the end, he’d been forced to equip his Guyver unit and direct Crouger in equipping his own before they would believe that what he was trying to tell them wasn’t simply some made-up story. Though how they had come to that conclusion, when it was obvious that neither he nor Crouger had met before, he didn’t know.

The fact that Crouger’s father had decided to stay behind, while it was his own choice and at least fairly logical given his line of work, was troubling. If he was taken by Chronos, there was a chance that Crouger would suffer the same psychological trauma as Fukamachi, and that would be rather troublesome. Admittedly, Crouger did not seem to be one to succumb to weak sentiment the way that Fukamachi did, but first impressions could be misleading.

As the transport that he had arranged to bring them along the first leg of their journey pulled away from the Crouger household, he turned his attention to the newest Guyver. The younger boy looked distraught, but not as much as Fukamachi would have in his place. He knew; he had had ample time to observe Fukamachi in various states of mind.

"Are you still troubled, Crouger?"

"I guess," the boy said, obviously morose. "I mean, I know it’s his decision and all, and I know he’s got all these big responsibilities as a fireman, but I can’t help wishing that he’d chosen to come with us. He’s pretty much putting his life in the hands of Chronos."

"If there is anything I can do for you," he began, trusting Crouger to fill in the rest but still curious to know what the boy’s reaction would be.

"I don’t think there’s much, unless you can alter time or send someone to keep an eye on my dad."

As Crouger turned away from him, leaning his forehead against the darkened glass of the window, Agito reflected on the younger boy’s requests. His first seemed to be merely a joke, or an offhanded statement not meant to be taken seriously. His true request, however, was a great deal more practical than any of Fukamachi’s would have been.

"I could post some of my soldiers around your father to ensure that no harm comes to him." 

"Thanks," Crouger said, turning to smile at him. "That means a lot to me."

When the younger Guyver – younger even than Fukamachi, he suspected – turned back to his observation of the passing roadway, Agito considered him. The red-haired boy seemed to be more sensible than Fukamachi; time would tell if he would be as useful.

"Huh, looks like they’re adding on to the old Brant building," Crouger muttered, clearly talking to himself.

He was fully prepared to ignore what the youngest of the Guyvers had said, as the one-sided conversation was clearly not meant for his ears, but then the name of the building that he had mentioned registered.

"Brant?" he repeated, fixing his gaze on Crouger. "You wouldn’t be talking about Brant Medical Technologies, would you?"

" _That’s_ what the place is called. I could never quite manage to get that name to stick in my head; Mom says they’re some kind of health organization. They’ve even offered her a job a few times – at least that’s what she told me."


	41. Keeper of Secrets

"It’s a good thing we got you two out when we did, then," he said.

"Why’s that?" Crouger asked, turning back to face him.

"Brant Medical Technologies is one of Chronos’ front corporations. If they were looking to recruit your mother, they would have likely had their eyes on you, as well. You’re healthy and in good physical condition; it’s more than possible that they would have had you marked as a candidate for processing later."

"Shit. You mean they would have turned me into one of those Zoa-things?"

"Zoanoids," he corrected, out of habit. "You’re currently too young to undergo processing safely – the lower age limit for the procedure is seventeen – but it’s quite probable that Chronos would have wanted you to become a Zoanoid once you had reached the right age."

"Well, that would suck," was Crouger’s opinion. "I think I’m glad I became a Guyver instead of having _that_ happen to me."

"And glad we found you, I think."

"Yeah," Crouger said, guffawing. "That, too."

"Anyway, we should deal with that Chronos base before we leave," he said, seeing the perfect opportunity to deal Chronos a severe blow and at the same time gauge how useful Crouger was going to be to his future plans.

"That’s kind of what we do, yeah?"

"You know about our battle with Chronos?" he asked, relived and slightly impressed that Crouger had taken the time to learn such a thing.

"Sho and I talked a lot," he said. "We didn’t really have that much to do for the first two weeks we were at my house, since Mom had pretty much forbidden me to go to school until she was satisfied that I’d gotten better. Moms, huh?"

The expression on Crouger’s face was such that he suspected he was being invited to share in a joke. "I wouldn’t know."

The look Crouger gave him was one of mild confusion, but he didn’t intend to explain anything of his life story. Not even to Fukamachi, whom he had known through a good deal of the time he’d been at school and certainly not to someone he’d only met that day, no matter how useful the gray Guyver might prove himself to be.

"Fukamachi?" he asked, switching back to his native language with the ease of long practice.

"What is it, Agito?"

"There’s a Chronos processing facility in this area," he said, knowing what effect it would have on his fellow Japanese Guyver. "I don’t know how large it is as yet, but Crouger seems to know this area fairly well. I’m sure he would be able to inform us of the best possible avenues of attack."

"I think so, too," the younger Guyver said, nodding. "I’ll ask him about it."

He was slightly surprised to hear that, until he remembered that Fukamachi had been communicating with Crouger in that selfsame way for the past two weeks. He was likely used to it by now. While he waited for the other two Guyvers to come to a consensus – preferably one favorable to his plans so he wouldn’t have to take time convincing them – he gave an order to the driver to pull over.

This neighborhood they were traveling through seemed to be quite calm, even placid, at this point, but he doubted very much that it would remain so after the attack conducted on this branch of Chronos. Ordering the driver, one of his lower-level but unfailingly loyal soldiers, to stop at the nearest available area where they would be able to easily conceal themselves once they had left their vehicle, he turned to regard Crouger as the younger boy nudged him.

"What is it?"

"If you’re looking for a place to hide this thing, there’s always the Haunted Lot."

"What haunted lot?"

"It’s this old parking structure that they haven’t really gotten around to demolishing yet. Well, mostly, anyway… they took down all of the upper levels and cleared them out, but there are two underground levels that nobody’s done anything with. Everyone here just calls it the Haunted Lot. The name fits – it definitely _looks_ like it could be haunted."

"What do you mean?"

"It has all these deep, jagged shadows – there are these chunks of concrete and asphalt all over the place that a lot of us pick up for souvenirs."

"Are you sure the building is structurally sound?" he asked, not wanting to go into a place that was liable to collapse on him without warning.

"I’m sure; I’ve been in and out of there a few times myself."

Sitting back in his seat, contemplating the new information he’d been given, he turned to look back at the other Guyver. "Where is this haunted lot of yours in relation to the Brant building?"

"It’s three blocks down, but you’ll have a clear line of sight to the building," he chuckled. "If you can even see it from that far away, that is."

It sounded almost ideal for this kind of operation, so he ordered the driver to head in that direction. Once they had reached the indicated area, he could begin to see the reason that the people here – the children, at least – had decided to call this place haunted. It certainly had the ambiance of a place forgotten by time, and if he’d been inclined to believe in such foolish things as ghosts, this would be the kind of place where he’d expect them.

There were a few broken blocks and torn up slabs of concrete, some with severed ends of rebar sticking out of them like shattered twigs. It was impossible to calculate how large the structure would have once been, as most of the debris had been removed, and the few large chunks that remained were not enough to make even a conservative estimate.

  
"You said that this ‘haunted lot’ of yours was underground?" he asked.

"That’s what I said."

"The driver says he cannot see a way into the underground chamber that you spoke of."

"This’d be a lot easier if I was riding shotgun," the redhead said, grabbing the empty passenger seat and hauling himself forward. "Or if I was on foot," he muttered, clearly speaking to himself again. "You see those two slabs that are really close together?"

The soldier, after looking to him and receiving conformation, turned his attention back to Crouger. "I see them."

"Good. Keep driving until you get at least three feet out from them, then turn right. You’ll be able to see the ramp; it’s got a few rocks on it, but we’ve cleared away most of the big ones."

"I’ll keep that in mind."

Folding his arms and leaning back against his seat, he felt the expected change in orientation as their car proceeded down the ramp.

"Thanks for warning me about the rocks, kid."

"No problem," Crouger said, releasing his grip and settling back into his seat.

Soon enough, their vehicle had entered the darkness of what was obviously the former underground parking structure that the children of this area had dubbed the haunted lot. Leaving his soldier with orders to remain with the vehicle, he stepped outside and surveyed the place. It was easy to see how the impression had been given: the shadows that gathered there in the absence of any working lights certainly made the artificial cavern seem eerie.

"When do you and your companions come down here?" he asked, looking around.

"We usually come down here at night," he said, helping Fukamachi out of the car and then looking around himself. "We’ve even set off some fireworks a few times. Mostly on the Fourth of July, but there have been a few times we’ve set them off just for fun. Bottle rockets, mostly; nothing that can do any real damage to reinforced concrete."


	42. The Haunted Lot

"Agito, shouldn’t we be going now?" Fukamachi asked.

"Of course," he said calmly, even as he berated himself for being distracted. "Crouger," he said, switching back to English. "Recall your Guyver and come with me."

"Sure."

Once they were all clad in the Bio-Booster armor, he noticed that Crouger was staring at his hands.

"Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

"I just haven’t had so much time to get used to this – certainly not after just doing it twice."

"What about the battle you participated in against Murakami?" he asked. If Crouger was still uneasy about his abilities, he wouldn’t be of much use at all.

"Who?" Crouger’s tone was one of confusion. "Oh, you mean that psycho guy who claims he was Sho’s friend?"

"Yes."

"He said his name was Imakarum. He seemed pretty pissed when I called him Murakami."

"Indeed?" he asked, interested in any psychological advantage that he could have against the Zoalord who had once been one of their allies.

"Yeah. He really didn’t like being called by that name." Crouger paused a moment. "I’d say he was in denial, but I don’t really know him well enough to make any of those kinds of judgments."

"If you want to know more about him, Crouger, I’d suggest you ask Fukamachi."

"Seems kind of insensitive," Crouger said, turning to look back over his shoulder at Fukamachi. "You didn’t see how he reacted."

"I suppose," he allowed. "We’re straying from our original intent, though." _+Fukamachi, we’re going to leave now.+_

_ +All right, Agito,+  _ the younger boy said, walking up to stand beside Crouger.

"We moving out now?" Crouger asked, cocking his head slightly to the left.

"Yes." _+I trust you already know how to use your Gravity Controller, Crouger. We will be conducting an aerial assault on this facility; they have very few Arial-type Zoanoids to oppose us, so things will be simpler this way.+_

_ +So I guess you’re the leader of this little resistance?+ _ Crouger’s mental tone sounded rather wry.

_ +Were you expecting Fukamachi to have that responsibility?+ _

_ +Honestly? No – the guy’s not really cut out for something like that. He’s not really that good in a fight, even. I mean, he’s clearly got some experience with it all, but he’s just not all that aware of what you have to do in situations like these. He gets distracted way too easily.+ _

_ +You’ve been thinking about this,+  _ he said, pleased to note that Crouger was not as oblivious as Fukamachi.

While the younger Guyver did have his uses, his naiveté and stupidity in combat were aggravating in the extreme to deal with on a regular basis. Crouger seemed enough like himself in temperament that he would not mind working with the boy outside of a combat situation. Still, it remained to be seen if the youngest of their group could be pragmatic enough to fully accept what was to come – what they were going to have to do to defeat Chronos entirely.

Perhaps the gray Guyver could even be useful to the long-term plans that he was slowly putting into place, but all of that remained to be seen. For now, he had to focus on the destruction of the Chronos base in this city. It was fairly minor: no direct oversight from the Zoalord commander of this Section, and likely very few combat capable Zoanoids. The base would be easy pickings for the three of them.

_ +Fukamachi, you enter through the right side of the building; the schematics I had access to indicate that the staff quarters and scientific divisions are in that area of the building. Crouger and I will deal with the Zoanoids.+ _

_ +All right, Agito.+ _

As Fukamachi subtly reoriented his flightpath, he turned his attention to Crouger. _+Stay close to me; we’re going to be encountering a fair amount of resistance on our way in.+_

_ +I’ll keep that in mind.+ _

_ +Good.+ _

Now it was time to see just how useful Crouger was going to be to his future plans.

XxXxXxX

Agito seemed like a fairly decent guy from what he had seen so far – a bit more… well, not really macho, but tough. He seemed like he’d been around the block at least once; of course, he also seemed like there was a lot he didn’t want people to know about him, but that was true about a lot of tough guys. Maybe he had a tragic past or something.

Once they’d reached the roof of the Brant building – or Chronos; whichever it was called – he turned back to Agito. Before he could make even the lamest attempt at conversation, though, they were crashing in through the ceiling. It was a suitably dramatic entrance, but if the Zoanoids here were as tough as the ones he’d faced out in the street, there were going to be some seriously unpleasant consequences for using it.

Especially if Johnny the Homicidal Maniac – a.k.a. Imakarum – was around to see them do it.

Everyone in the building had to know they were coming in, especially with the alarms that he could hear blaring over the sounds of falling plaster, wood, and assorted building materials. Even the sounds of running feet didn’t manage to cover the wailing noise, but it did let him know that they were going to be dealing with some serious opposition soon. Sho’d already headed off to do whatever Agito had told him to, so that just left him and the man himself.

"It’s Guyver Three!" one of the lizard-looking Zoanoids shouted. "And there’s another one with him!"

_ +Are they always this dramatic?+ _

_ +I don’t know what you mean, Crouger.+ _

_ +They’re practically screaming in our faces, and you’re telling me you don’t know what I’m talking about?+  _ he asked, only slightly more weirded-out by the calm attitude of the guy he was fighting beside than the screaming Zoanoids.

He’d seen them before, after all.

_ +All Zoanoids fear the Guyvers,+  _ he said, sounding like he thought anyone should know that.

_ +I guess that makes sense,+  _ he said, more to himself. _Considering what we can do to the things, I don’t really blame ‘em._

The sudden feeling of big, heavy _things_ coming towards them – he could feel their footfalls through the floor, but the weirdest part was that he could _see_ them even though he knew his head was pointed in the wrong direction – made him turn around, just as a large group of really buff-looking Zoanoids stomped into the room.

_ +Heads up; we’re about to have some more company.+ _

_ +Hyper Zoanoids,+  _ Agito said, sounding only mildly annoyed, and this in spite of the fact that these new bad guys were huge; one of them looked like a humanoid porcupine on some seriously badass steroids. _+Damn.+_

_ +You mind explaining what those are?+ _

_ +There’s no time to go into detail now, Crouger,+  _ he said, and Ryan only just managed to stop himself from telling the guy just how obvious _that_ little piece of information was. _+Suffice it to say that these are more powerful than any Standard Zoanoid.+_

_ +You know, that was all you really had to say,+  _ he said.

Agito didn’t say anything in return, but Ryan figured he’d gotten his point across. The porcupine-from-hell-on-steroids looked from him to Agito and back again, then evidently decided he wanted to pick on the new guy. The next thing Ryan knew, he’d been slammed through what felt like at _least_ a couple walls and bashed right through one of the floors.

_ +Crouger! Are you well?+ _

_ +Me? Hell, I’m just fine,+  _ he shot back, rolling out of the way as the steroidal porcupine tried to stomp and impale him. _+I’m having the time of my fucking_ life _here. There’s this giant hell-beast that wants to use me as his own personal punching bag, I pretty much gave up my entire life to fight in some crazy-ass war, and now I’m lost in the Brant building with things that look like they eat steel plating for breakfast. Things just couldn’t be better!+_

There was no answer from his taciturn counterpart, but then he’d really just been venting. It wasn’t like he could expect one for something like that, especially from this guy, since he seemed pretty close-mouthed.

About then, he noticed the fact that he was surrounded by more of those scientist-types. Most of them were staring at him, looking like they weren’t quite sure whether they wanted to start screaming, or if they were going to try and beg for their lives, though if these guys were anything like the jerks he’d run into before, he’d take serious pleasure in scaring them out of their tiny little minds. Whether he’d kill them or not was still up in the air. He didn’t have so many problems with killing Zoanoids – even if they _had_ been human at one point, they weren’t now, and they _were_ the ones trying to kill him – but these guys weren’t trying to do anything to him. Even if some of them were jerks, there were rules that had to be followed even in combat.

But there would be time for second-guessing and things like that later. Right now he had a Hyper Zoanoid in front of him that needed beating down, if only to keep the thing from beating down on _him_.

That battle was mercifully short – the guy seemed to be all about brute power, so it was pretty simple to get out of his range and get behind him. Cracking his head open with the Pressure Cannon was easy enough after that.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Guyver? Why have you come?" asked one of the scientists, a guy with brown eyes and slightly graying hair, obviously trying to sound brave.

"Me?" he asked, pointing a thumb at himself, all the while laughing mentally – ever since he’d heard a line a few years back on Movie Night, he’d been looking for a good chance to use it. He’d had a few, but there were few better places to use it than here. "I’m here to kick ass and chew bubblegum. And I didn’t bring any bubblegum."

Okay, so he’d paraphrased a bit, but he could see from the looks on their faces that he’d gotten his point across.


	43. Learning Curve

The sound of hissing and screeching from behind him, combined with the weirdly giddy looks on the faces of most of the men in white coats – and some of the women, too – gave him the feeling that there was something bad coming up behind him. Turning around with a certain amount of trepidation (he wasn’t stupid enough to think that something bad would just go away if it was ignored, but no sane person was _eager_ to look their own destruction in the face) he saw the large group of insect-headed _things_ coming for him at a run.

This was, in the words of Egon Spengler, very bad.

Running before even one of them could get within punching – or stabbing; those giant crab-leg looking pinchers on their backs gave him the heebies – range, he was very unpleasantly surprised to see one of them spitting at him. He didn’t know quite what they were doing, other than something his Grandma would have washed his mouth out with soap for, right up to the point where the stuff splattered all over the floor. Apparently it was some sort of acid. Some sort of _really strong_ acid _._ Some sort of really strong acid that was _melting through the goddamn floor and oh my god I am so fucking fucked right now!_

"Well…" He couldn’t think of anything really witty to say; imagine that. "Bye now!"

Running like the hounds of hell were snapping at his heals, which probably wasn’t far off the mark considering what these things could do, Ryan careened out of the room and into a hallway. Shouting a mix of taunts and swearwords at the Zoanoids that were pursuing him, and finishing up by yelling at them to "kiss my armor-plated butt!" Ryan kept running. When the shower of corrosive enzymatic fluid that he had just narrowly dodged finally registered in his conscious mind, Ryan had the thought that maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been one of his better ideas to tell that to a group composed mostly of acid-spitting bug-headed Zoanoids.

Jumping out of the way of another shower of acid spit, Ryan looked in front of himself, trying to see if there were any more Zoanoids up ahead. What he saw looked almost like a pair of steel double-doors. Grinning, Ryan poured on more speed, knowing just what it was that he was looking at: the entrance to an elevator. Or at least to an elevator shaft.

Once he had reached the elevator doors, Ryan had to again avoid a spray of enzymatic fluid. The acid that had been aimed at his head instead hit the doors of the elevator he was standing in front of. There was now a hole corroded through the elevator doors, but Ryan could be glad of the fact that the hole wasn’t at hand-height. Forcing his armored fingers into the seam between the doors, Ryan braced himself. Grunting with the effort – even to a Guyver these doors were hard to move – Ryan planted his feet and forced the doors open with a final surge of bio-boosted muscles. Jumping into the shaft, he looked around for the elevator that he knew had to be in there somewhere. There was nothing below him, so Ryan turned his gaze upward. And there, a fair amount of distance above him, was the elevator he had been looking for.

He was just starting to concentrate so he could fly up to the elevator when three bug people buzzed into the elevator shaft below him. _Oh_ hell _no, just the kind of bugs I didn’t want to deal with!_

_ +Crouger, is there a problem?+ _

_ Speaking of things I didn’t want to deal with, _ Ryan grumbled internally. _+What would give you that idea, Agito?+_

_ +There was a sudden burst of frustration, and what might have best been described as apprehension, coming through your Guyver-link.+ _

While Ryan took a minute to process what Agito had just said, one of the bug people spat a stream of corrosive fluid up at him that he just barely managed to dodge.

_ +I’ll talk to you later, okay?+ _

No answer was forthcoming from Agito, so Ryan turned his attention back to the three Galma that were giving him trouble. _Really big flies need a really big flyswatter,_ Ryan laughed to himself as he looked back up at the elevator that he was slowly coming closer. He could also hear the Galma coming closer, and he didn’t like that sound one bit. One of them spat at him again, and Ryan quickly made himself as scarce as he could in the narrow elevator shaft. Finally getting sick of dodging acid spit, Ryan decided to go on the offensive.

"Stop bugging me!" Ryan shouted, firing the Head Beam at the pursuing Zoanoids.

Two of them managed to dodge, but the third one wasn’t so lucky. It took Ryan’s blast right in the forehead. The infrared laser split open the Zoanoid’s head straight down the middle, killing it instantly. The remains of the third Galma dissolved as they fell, becoming nothing more than biological ooze before they had reached the halfway point of the shaft.

_ +Crouger, are you having a problem?+ _

_ +Look, Agito, I’m currently dealing with a pair of really annoying bug-guys. So why don’t you check in later?+  _ There was no answer from Agito, so Ryan figured that Guyver III had gotten the message.

Looking at the elevator coming swiftly into view above him, Ryan grinned. _This could do some serious damage to those oversized, acid-spitting bug things._ Looking at the bottom of the elevator, Ryan willed his Guyver to show him where the emergency brakes were. _If I remember_ Speed _correctly, elevators have at least two emergency brakes, maybe more. Okay, so here’s hoping that there really_ are _only two._

Kicking out with his right foot, Ryan smashed the right brake into little pieces. Turning to look at the one on the left, Ryan fired two shots from his Head Beam. The blasts melted the left brake into useless slag. _Okay, so now I have to take care of the cables at the top._ Looking up again, Ryan focused his thoughts on the gravity controller imbedded in the Guyver’s waist. Feeling the force of gravity that was trying to pull him down, Ryan used the gravity controller to selectively invert it, pushing him upwards. Straight into the base of the elevator. Ducking his head slightly, Ryan rammed his way through the floor of the elevator, not caring much if anyone was inside when he crashed through. 

Now on top of what remained of the elevator car, Ryan quickly severed the cables with his Vibro-blades. Hovering, he watched the car fall, hoping that neither of the two flying Galma would be able to fit though the hole he had made. But as it turned out, the elevator knocked both Galma unconscious before it pounded them into the floor. Ryan laughed to himself. _Well, that was fun._

_ +What happened to the Galma?+ _

Ryan chuckled aloud this time. _+That’s what they’re called? Well, I squashed them, that’s what.+_

This time, Agito’s telepathic voice held a fair amount of skepticism. _+And how did you squash them, exactly?+_

_ +I dropped an elevator on the things,+ _ Ryan answered, his obvious satisfaction coming though loud and clear.

_ +Crouger, I like the way you think,+ _ Agito sent back.

_ +Thanks for the vote of confidence, Agito. And I told you already, call me Ryan.+ _

Ryan listened, but Agito didn’t answer. _+So, how goes your part of the mission?+_ he asked at last.

_ +Fairly well, so far. Most of the Chronos personnel are too preoccupied with the damage you’re doing to worry about the other parts of the facility,+ _ Agito said.

_ +That’s good to know,+ _ Ryan nodded. _+I’m glad that my little demolition derby is of at least_ some _use to you guys.+_

Nothing more was forthcoming from Agito, so Ryan focused back on his own mission: causing massive havoc and chaos for Chronos. A wall exploded inward under the force of the Pressure Cannon, and Ryan followed that up with a volley of blasts from the Head Beam. He wasn’t going to use the Mega-Smasher, not in a relatively minor skirmish like this.

But with Zoanoids popping up around every corner, it was hard not to be tempted. Kicking a Ramochis hard enough that it flew backwards into a group of Gregole, Ryan laughed at the resulting pileup. Then he finished them all off with a couple blasts from the Pressure Cannon. Racing through the dissolving Zoanoid parts, Ryan snapped off some more shots from his Head Beam at anything else that moved.


	44. Your friend, My friend

Far away from where Ryan was carving a wide path of destruction through the aboveground levels, Agito Makashima and Sho Fukamachi – Guyvers III and I respectively – were making their way to the main computer system of the Chronos Denver branch. Their objective was nothing less than the complete destruction of that system. Both of them knew that the data concerning Guyver V had more than likely been transferred to every other branch of Chronos that existed, so they weren’t here to try and do anything about that. Sho thought that it was good to have someone else to help fight Chronos, but he couldn’t help wondering whether Ryan knew just what he was getting into when he joined their battle.

Sho didn’t want anyone else to get hurt by Chronos the way he had been hurt. He hoped that he would be able to protect Ryan, or at least help the other boy to escape some of the horrors that Sho had been through.

_ +Fukamachi, we’re almost there.+ _

_ +Good. I don’t want to spend any more time in these cramped vents than I have to.+ _

_ +Remember, Fukamachi, we still have to dispose of the processing tanks.+ _

_ +Yeah, I remember,+  _ Sho sighed.

As they made their way through the vents, crawling on their hands and knees, Sho hoped that they would be able to leave the confines of the air vents sooner rather than later. Agito may have been right about the air ducts being the safest mode of access to the lower levels of Chronos, but they weren’t exactly easy on the nerves. Sho was only glad that he wasn’t claustrophobic—dealing with a rampant fear of small spaces on top of the uneasiness he was already feeling at being surrounded by Chronos agents, probably most of whom were Zoanoids in human form, would not be at all pleasant. For Agito or Sho himself.

Agito looked out through one of the ventilation grilles, tracking their progress as he had been doing ever since they had entered the ventilation system. They had almost reached their destination; in fact, they were only one room away from the main computer system for Chronos Denver.

_ +Fukamachi, be ready.+ _

_ +All right, Agito. I will be.+ _

Agito nodded to himself, as the two of them made their way through the vents. There hadn’t been any contact from Crouger, not since the other Guyver had reported that he was finished dealing with the Galma that had attacked him. But, given the fact that he could still hear the sounds of mass destruction coming from above them, Agito knew that it was safe to surmise that Guyver V was still fighting.

This new Guyver had been a surprise for Agito, and the Dark Guyver hated dealing with surprises—unless he had been the one to plan them, of course. Seeing him in action, rather than easing Agito’s worries, had actually made them worse. Crouger was strong, and more than that he was wary. There was none of the naïveté that had made Fukamachi such an effective pawn in this new Guyver. That was a potential problem, but it could be worked around given enough time. Right now, the current situation was enough to occupy Agito’s thoughts. He would deal with Crouger later.

They had finally arrived at the room that housed the main computer, and both Guyvers were more than ready to start doing some damage of their own. Kicking out the vent cover, Agito leapt down to the floor. There was currently no one in the room, but Agito knew that that would change once he and Fukamachi started attacking. Fukamachi took his time, but he was soon standing on the floor next to Agito.

"Bio-Boost!" Agito called, feeling the Guyver’s pressure field surround him.

"Guyver!" Sho yelled.

Soon, Guyvers I and III were standing side-by-side in the as yet empty computer room.

"Fukamachi, follow me!"

Leaping at the nearest bank of computers, Guyver III extended both of the Vibration Blades on his right arm. Slashing downward, he cleaved the large machine in half as if he was slicing through a warm stick of butter. Guyver I was right behind him, firing his Pressure Cannon into the banks of computers on his right, just behind where Guyver III was working on the others. The alarms began to blare, and both Guyvers knew that it wouldn’t be long before they were surrounded by Zoanoids.

_ +Crouger, are you there?+ _

_ +Yeah. What’s the what?+ _

_ +We’re going to be needing your help soon,+ _ Agito said, after he had managed to intuit the meaning of Ryan’s strange question.

_ +That’s good. It was starting to get a little too quiet in my area.+ _

_ +Come as soon as you are able,+  _ Agito said flatly.

_ +On my way,+ _ Crouger said cheerfully.

Turning his attention back to the battle, Guyver III smashed another computer bank into shrapnel. That was when the Zoanoids started to arrive. Five Gregole, five Vamore, and six Ramochis came running into the room in single file. The first three Zoanoids to make it into the room were cut down by Guyver I’s Vibration Blades. The others, Agito saw, were starting to fall to someone who was attacking from behind, and he had a feeling that he knew who it was.

"Outta my way, boys, I’m coming through!"

And, with several slashes from his Vibration Blades, Guyver V did just that.

"Crouger, do you know that you tend to say the strangest things?"

"Can we not talk about that right now?"

Two punches, a flurry of kicks, a few swipes from the Vibro-blades, and a three-shot barrage from the Pressure Cannon cleared most of the room. But more Zoanoids quickly rushed in to fill the void left by their dead brethren, and the three Guyvers made themselves ready for the next wave of the battle. There were more Vamore in this group, but there was also another breed of Zoanoid that none of the three Guyvers had seen before.

They looked like huge, bipedal wolves, tall and broad with thick, shaggy grayish-blue fur. Their long teeth and claws clearly marked them as warrior Zoanoids. These were Alvix model Zoanoids, created by Ingriam Mirabilis at Cloud Tower not all that long ago. However, the three Guyvers who were now fighting against them had no way of knowing that. All they knew or cared about was the fact that there were more obstacles for them to destroy.

The Alvix had about the same level of strength as a Gregole and was almost as heavily armored, but what made it more dangerous was its speed. It was this very speed that was giving Alvix the advantage in this battle. Since they were already being attacked by waves of other Zoanoids, the Alvix models were able to take full advantage of their augmented speed.

Their claws cut into the armor of the attacking Guyvers, distracting them at just the moments when the trio would have to be the most focused. With the Alvixs providing a distraction, the Vamore, Gregole, and Ramochis were able to avoid almost all of the attacks that the three Guyvers were making against them.

_ +Damnit!+ _ Agito swore over the Guyver-link. _+This is starting to get very annoying.+_

_ +I’ll second that,+ _ Ryan said. _+You have any idea what we might be able to do about it?+_

_ +I would suggest that we all use the Mega-Smasher, but there would be no way to charge it without these Zoanoids knowing about it,+  _ Agito said.

_ +Yeah. And, there’s also the fact that the Mega-Smasher would probably end up bringing the roof down on top of us. Not like we’d be hurt or anything by that, but it would be kind of annoying to have to dig ourselves out of that much rubble.+ _

_ +Yes, that too would be inconvenient for us,+  _ Agito said, as they began to mix it up with the Zoanoids again.

Sho grabbed one of the Ramochis by the head and threw it at the wolflike Zoanoid that was coming up to attack him. The new type of Zoanoid proved to be fast enough to dodge the flying body of its fellow Zoanoid, though. Sho cursed under his breath as it came at him again, claws up and ready to stab or slice.

Then the Zoanoid’s head exploded, blown off from behind by a shot from Ryan’s Pressure Cannon.

_ +Thank you, Ryan.+ _

_ +Not a problem, Sho.+ _

Another Alvix came charging at Sho, but Ryan got behind it and stabbed it in the neck with his wrist-mounted Vibration Blade.

_ +I guess if they can’t see you, they can’t dodge,+ _ Ryan nodded to himself.

_ +That makes sense.+ _

With this in mind, Sho and Ryan attempted to keep out of the Alvixs’ sight and attack them from behind. This was made slightly harder by all of the remaining Zoanoids, but since those were also being whittled down by Guyver III, there wasn’t as much of a problem as there might have been otherwise. Ryan plowed through a small but persistent knot of Vamore, scattering them like bowling pins. Another Alvix jumped out at him, and Ryan crushed its head with a punch. Meanwhile, Agito was having it out with another small knot of Gregole that were guarding the single remaining computer bank. He wanted those computers destroyed, since he had never liked to leave a job halfway done, and no matter what else happened to him, Agito was going to finish the task that he had set for himself.

Smashing one of the Gregole’s heads with a shot from his Pressure Cannon, Agito dodged around the clawed hand of another as it came at him. Slicing that one to pieces with his Vibration Blades, Agito saw one of the Gregole’s chests explode from the blast of another Guyver’s Pressure Cannon. Looking over at just who had come to his aid, Agito saw Crouger standing with his right hand up, palm out and fingers splayed.

"It looks like you could use some help there," Guyver V said.

"Thank you," Agito acknowledged.


	45. Only Way Out

Not taking the time to watch as the other Guyver cut his attackers to pieces with his Vibration Blades, Agito killed the two remaining Gregole that stood between him and the last of Chronos’ main computers. The few backups that existed in this facility would of course be taken care of, but right now these were the most important. Blowing the last of Chronos Denver’s computer mainframes into shrapnel with a blast from his Pressure Cannon, Agito turned around.

He saw that Fukamachi and Crouger had managed to eliminate the last of the Zoanoids while he had been disposing of the last of the main computers. Crouger was looking around, evidently prepared for any other Zoanoids that might try to come after them, as more no doubt would. It was a prudent thing for the other Guyver to be doing, and Agito found his regard for Crouger increasing slightly. The boy may have been an annoying random factor in his plans, but at least Crouger had the intelligence to be a help rather than a hindrance in their battle. Still, his intelligence and tenacity could just as easily prove to be an obstacle for his future plans. Agito knew that it was still best for him to wait and watch to see if Crouger would present any weaknesses that he could exploit. Everyone had a weakness; it was just a matter of finding it.

But for now there were more important things for him to think about than how to deal with Crouger. This branch of Chronos still had a few things inside it that needed to be destroyed before the three Guyvers could leave this place.

_ +Fukamachi, Crouger, follow me to the lower levels. We will destroy the processing-tanks now.+ _

_ +Right behind you, big man.+ _

_ +Yes, Agito.+ _

Blasting a hole in the floor with the Pressure Cannon, Agito leaped through the hole and landed on the lower level. Concentrating on the Gravity Controller, he slammed his way through the floor below him with his feet. He could, through his Guyver’s hyper-sensors, sense the presence of Guyver I and Guyver V just above him. Agito knew the standard layout of every Chronos building, and by extension he knew just how many levels he was going to have to get through before he made it to the processing labs.

It would take a while for them to reach the lower levels this way, but the added destruction they were inflicting on Chronos Denver was all the more reason for them to take this route. Agito slammed feet-first through another floor, followed quickly by the two other Guyvers. They fell past squadrons of Zoanoids—Zoanoids who had to have known where the Guyvers were ultimately going.

Once they had seen the three Guyvers pass them by, they turned quickly and headed for the nearest flight of stairs. There was no point in standing around and waiting for an elevator when each of them had far more stamina than a human could ever hope to have. Besides that, there was a better than average chance that the Guyvers had already destroyed all of the elevators.

They were now almost at the level where the processing-tanks were set up, and Agito was feeling the same kind of cold, calm fury that he always had when he was confronting the lower soldiers of Chronos. There were only two floors between the three Guyvers and the processing division, then one as Agito smashed his way through the floor. And then the three Guyvers stood inside the processing division.

_ +There are three levels of processing-tanks in this branch. We will be able to destroy them with ease.+ _

_ +Roger wilco,+ _ Ryan said.

Sho smashed his way through two floors, dropping to the third level of Chronos Denver’s processing division. Agito took the first floor, which naturally left Ryan with the second. To Sho, the Zoanoids within the processing-tanks were strange and unfamiliar to him. They looked a bit smaller than Chronos’ other stock. But, given how much time he had spent in that strange cocoon, the one that Agito had said was made from the remains of the Relic, it could have been possible that Chronos had developed new Zoanoid types.

XxXxXxX

Ryan, since he didn’t know all that much about Zoanoid types despite sharing headspace with Sho in that mondo-bizarro cocoon for who knew how long, didn’t see anything special about these Zoanoids. They were just more targets for the Pressure Cannon as far as he was concerned. Without another thought, Ryan began charging the aforementioned gravity weapon. Stepping back from the processing-tanks to give himself a clearer shot, Ryan fired. The blast shattered two of the tanks entirely and caused those on either side of them to shake violently. Charging up the Pressure Cannon again, Ryan turned his sights to the other processing-tanks in the room.

XxXxXxX

Agito also saw the rows of strangely underdeveloped Zoanoids, but, being Agito, he couldn’t have cared less—they were merely targets to the Dark Guyver. Extending both sets of Vibration Blades, Agito started to calmly destroy both the processing-tanks and their unconscious occupants. When all of the processing-tanks in his area had been taken care of, Agito contacted Fukamachi and Crouger, wanting to know how their parts of the mission had gone.

_ +Things are all done on my end,+  _ Crouger reported.

_ +I’m all done now, Agito,+  _ Fukamachi reported, just a few seconds after Crouger.

_ +Good. Now follow me, we’re leaving.+ _

_ +No arguments on my end, big man.+ _

Ignoring the inane answer that he had received from Crouger, Agito fired two more shots from the Pressure Cannon and then reactivated his Gravity Controller. As his feet slammed through the floors of the Chronos building, Agito saw Fukamachi and Crouger following him into the lowest levels. There were sewer accesses in that area, and Agito knew that those were their most promising avenue of escape. The sewers were not the most pleasant of escape routes, however they were one of the few leading out of the Chronos buildings that were not monitored in any fashion. The only other way was the air vents. However, it would have taken too much work to lose the Zoanoid patrols that were doubtless after them—that, and the fact that they were too large in Guyver-form to be able to escape through the vents.

Once the three of them had managed to outpace the Zoanoid teams that were no doubt tracking them, Agito landed on one of the lower levels, then turned to Crouger and Fukamachi.

_ +From here, we will need to be careful not to make ourselves conspicuous. Deactivate your Guyver units and follow me. I know a great deal of ways to escape from these kinds of facilities unobserved.+ _

_ +Sure thing, big man.+ _

_ +Yes, Agito.+ _

Agito watched as Crouger and Fukamachi dismissed their Guyver units before dismissing his own, since it would have been a tacit admission of weakness for him to be seen de-transforming first. Once the three of them were back in their human forms, Agito wordlessly led them down into the lower levels of the Chronos Denver building.

XxXxXxX

Ryan almost thought it was funny, the fact that they’d been running rampant through a Chronos base only to have to sneak out through the back door somewhere. Not that he didn’t agree with the need to get the hell out of Dodge without being spotted and beaten on by irate Zoanoids; he’d had more than his share of that, thank you very much.

And there were probably more of those allegedly specially processed Galma just waiting for the three of them to show up somewhere else. At least, Ryan figured that those things had been specially processed, since Sho had told him that Galma didn’t spit acid. Moving through the lower hallways of the Chronos building, trying to be as quiet as he could, Ryan got to see a bit more of Agito’s personality. So far, he hadn’t really been impressed. Still, there _had_ been some serious fighting going on, and he was still coming down off the high that it had caused for him. Maybe ol’ Agito was just a hardass when he’d gotten done with a big fight. Ryan wasn’t quite sure if that was the truth, but it was as good an explanation as he could come up with since he didn’t know the guy very well. At least it was one that didn’t make him want to punch the guy in the face.

As they walked softly down the infrequently used back stairs of the Chronos Denver building, Ryan looked around. The stairs were lit only by dull green lights placed at the top and bottom of the flights. It did give the whole place a suitably creepy air, but Ryan couldn’t help thinking that that wasn’t really why the back stairs were lit so badly. Agito _had_ said that Zoanoids had better senses than any human, so the Chronos guys were probably just trying to save money on electricity. After all, there wasn’t really any need for them to waste the money on extra lights if most of them could see in the dark anyway.

Crossing his arms behind his head, Ryan stretched to work the kinks out of his muscles. He hadn’t really had the chance to think about what his decision to throw in his lot with these guys would really mean for him, but he was starting to appreciate it now. From how Sho had acted at his house to how Agito and Sho were acting right now, it meant that he’d never really be safe again. Basically he’d stepped into a Terminator movie, but without Skynet or the killer cyborgs.

It was going to take a bit of getting used to, especially since he wasn’t sure yet if Agito was really as much of a bastard as he was in this little dust-up, but then this was what had happened. There really wasn’t anything he could do about the situation but adapt now that he’d fully pissed off Chronos by helping to blow the hell out of one of their bases. Of course there _was_ always the option of going into hiding.

With the Guyver’s power to fly, he could hide out in a lot of places that normal people couldn’t even get to. Then again, he’d seen that there were Zoanoids that could fly almost as well as he could now, so there went that idea. They didn’t seem to be quite as maneuverable as his Guyver; still, there was no point in borrowing trouble. He already had enough of that as it was.


	46. Enmity Mine

When the three of them made it to the bottom of the stairways— _all_ of the freakin’ stairways—Ryan leaned back against the wall and waited for Agito to make up his mind about where they were going to go next. Since Ryan himself knew pretty much dick-all about the inner workings of Chronos bases, he was content to let Agito lead them out of this particular little hellhole, even if they guy _was_ acting a little too uptight for his taste. It could all just be from the stress, and Ryan was going to at least try to give the guy the benefit of all possible doubt. At least until Mr. Agito Makashima proved himself one way or the other, that was.

Looking over at Sho again, Ryan watched the other boy make his way over to the wall and lean against it. Sho was the kind of person he could relate to more easily: there was no having to guess if what he was seeing was the real deal or some kind of act when he was dealing with the guy. Still, the fact that’d he’d known Sho a lot longer than he had Agito might have had more to do with how easy it was to relate to him.

"Crouger, Fukamachi, follow me. I have found one of the sewer accesses for this building."

" _Imagine_ my joy," Ryan drawled, rolling his eyes.

"Would you prefer to try and fight your way out through all the Zoanoids inside this building?" Agito asked, more snappishly than he needed to as far as Ryan was concerned.

"Duh, _no_." Ryan shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again. "But you _can’t_ expect me to enjoy walking into a dark place filled with rats, crud vapors, and things that aren’t polite to talk about in mixed company."

"This is the most expedient way to exit the facility," Agito said, eyes narrowing slightly.

"You know, you’re the only guy I’ve met that would use ‘expedient’ in a casual conversation," Ryan observed, waking up to the sewer access.

Agito ignored him, but Ryan truthfully hadn’t been expecting any other response. Sho seemed to find the observation a bit funny, so Ryan winked at him. It was good to know that he had at least one guy he could understand in this mess with him. Agito’s attitude was starting to grate on him; the guy was just too damn uptight. As he picked his way carefully into the sewer, Sho following close behind, Ryan made up his mind that he would at least _try_ to get Mr. Agito Makashima to loosen up before passing judgment on him. It was always a good idea to give someone you’d just met the benefit of all possible doubt.

He’d been dead on the mark about one thing, though: there were some _seriously_ nasty crud vapors down these tunnels. They would have probably been a good way to dissuade any of those wolf-looking Zoanoids from following them; those things probably had a sense of smell that was at least as good as a dog’s, and this place was _rank_. Ryan was just glad that _he_ didn’t have an enhanced sense of smell. Walking through this stink-hole, while it _was_ a very good way of keeping all the Zoanoids in the building from trying to follow them back to wherever the hell they were going, wasn’t at all pleasant to be in.

Ryan knew he was harping on the sheer nastiness of the place he was currently walking through, but he honestly couldn’t care less. It was a fucking _sewer_ , for Christ's sake—if he couldn’t bitch about being forced to walk through a sewer, then there wasn’t much to say. Not that he was really _saying_ anything, aside from the words in his head. And he wouldn’t be saying anything anytime soon, since he really didn’t want to breathe any more of the disgusting air down here than was strictly necessary.

He was starting to get a bit antsy, though, a little jittery, the way he always did when there was tension in the air. He was also starting to get a bit queasy from all the vile-smelling fumes he was currently breathing in. All things considered, Ryan Crouger really wasn’t at his most clear-headed. What he did next was therefore understandable to someone who knew him; Agito, however, didn’t have the benefits of such knowledge.

"Can we get out of here now? I don’t really think they’re going to be looking for us anymore, and if I have to spend much longer down here I _know_ I’m going to throw up on someone’s shoes."

"Control yourself, Crouger," Mr. Agito Makashima said, with just the right amount of condescension to set Ryan in his already-volatile mood off.

"Look, your Supreme Assholishness, _you_ might be able to block out all the nasty smells in this place, but _some_ of us down here are normal. Now I want _out_ of this hellish little stinkhole, or I’m going to start getting _really_ cranky."

"Save your energy for walking, Crouger."

_ That _ was the last straw. Two large steps forward put Ryan squarely behind Agito, and before the other boy could react, Ryan shoved him hard in the right side. Unable to balance himself properly after such a completely unexpected attack, Ryan’s second shove was able to send him toppling into the fetid water on the left side of the raised walkway they’d been following.

For about a second, the filthy water was still, only the gentle ripples remaining as evidence that it had been disturbed. Then Agito, soaked and dripping scummy filth from his clothes and hair, surged back to the surface. The fact that he was spitting out something gave Ryan the impression that he’d stupidly opened his mouth when he’d hit, or when he was under all that cruddy water. Either way, it was pretty funny.

Funny enough that Ryan just had to laugh.

"You’re _completely_ aware that you look like a drowned rat, right?" Ryan said, laughing both at the disgruntled expression that Mr. Agito Makashima was now turning on him and at the sewer-water that was dripping from every part of his body.

"Crouger!"

"Yeah, that’s my _last_ name, Chachi," Ryan drawled, smirking at the boy currently glaring at him. "You wanna try pronouncing my first, for a change?"

With an inarticulate roar, Agito dove at him. Ryan, laughing dodged his first punch, and followed up with one of his own. Slamming his fist into Agito’s stomach, nearly knocking the older boy back into the fetid water, Ryan grinned.

"You might wanna watch who you’re pissing off, Goth-boy," Ryan needled, smirking. "I don’t think you’re on very stable footing right now."

"Crouger-"

"I _have_ a first name, you know," Ryan drawled, mildly annoyed.

Still, the fact that Agito – Mr. Annoying himself – was practically a hair’s breadth away from taking another dunk in the sewer water was enough to amuse Ryan to the point where he didn’t quite care just what the other Guyver was saying. Of course, seeing him flailing around like an idiot was only half as funny as watching him take an unscheduled dunk in the sewer water. And, now that none of them had all that much to take their minds off of how badly this place stunk, Ryan was perfectly willing to try and dunk the bastard again just to keep his mind off that fact.

As Mr. Annoying took a break, either because he’d run out of hot air or because he wanted to see how his fellow Guyver was reacting to what he’d just said, Ryan charged him. Slamming his foot into Agito’s gut, Ryan laughed as the jerk overbalanced and fell right back into the sludge. It was starting to matter less and less that he was stuck down here with Goth-boy and his oversized ego. In fact, if he _was_ going to be stuck down here for however the hell long it took for the three of them to get out of this stinking sewer, then he was going to make sure that he had fun for the duration. No matter how much Goth-boy and his titanic ego didn’t like it.


	47. Overland Exodus

As they worked to set the Denver branch of Chronos back to rights after the attack by the three Guyvers, Ranza and her group couldn’t help but wish that at least one of the Guyvers had been killed during the attack. But no, all three of them had managed to escape into the lower levels of the building while the male Zoanoids had been either confused or killed in the attack.

They could have at least tried to give a good account of themselves during that battle. Still, they _were_ only normal Zoanoids, even if one of the model types had been created by the son of His Excellency Imakarum Mirabilis. There wasn’t any real reason to expect more from them than any normal Standard Zoanoid, but would have been very useful to have some actual Hyper Zoanoid personnel stationed here.

But now wasn’t the time to think about things that hadn’t happened; their job was to clean up this base and restore it to working condition, and that was what they were going to do. As she set aside the last pile of technological rubble, Ranza turned to look at the large hole that had been blown in the floor of the room where she and her fellows were working. She’d heard reports that there were a lot of holes just like this one; now those reports were being confirmed by her very own eyes. Ranza could see that the hole, no doubt made by one of the three Guyvers, extended down through seven levels of the building.

Why it didn’t stretch all the way to the bottom was a detail that Ranza didn’t need to know to be able to complete her salvage and cleaning duties—a fact that the Zoanoid reminded herself of every time her eyes or thoughts started to wander back to the holes in the various floors. It wasn’t important; all that mattered was getting this place back up an running as soon as was feasible.

The sound of someone whistling – calling her and her compatriots to attention – was almost obscenely loud to Ranza’s enhanced hearing. Still, that didn’t mean she could ignore it just out of spite. Even if the caller _was_ being a jerk, there was always the possibility it was one of her superiors.

"Girls!" Ranza shouted when she noticed that some of them were still standing around instead of being at attention like they should have been.

Even if they _were_ still cleaning up the mess of smashed electronics and other types of debris on the floor, it was more important that they show the proper respect to their superiors. Checking to make sure that all of her fellow Zoanoids were standing at attention the way they should have been in the first place, Ranza turned to the person that had come in to speak with them.

"Is there something any of us can do for you, sir?"

Ranza could now see that the person who had been addressing her was one of the very few Hyper Zoanoids in this area. She could tell by the lapel pin he wore and the way he carried himself. All Hyper Zoanoids had that same basic carriage, that just-waiting-to-take-on-the-world look about them. Ranza supposed it came from being one of Chronos’ vaunted elites.

There were times that Ranza wondered just what she looked like to an outsider, but since those kinds of things weren’t important to her line of work, she didn’t think about them very often. Or for very long.

"I just wanted to make sure you ladies knew that the boss is going to be coming over to make an inspection of this area, so I’d advise that you and your group get to work."

"I’ll take that into consideration, sir," Ranza said, trying to be polite. _What the hell do you think we’re doing, you stupid asshole?_

Nodding pompously, the Hyper Zoanoid turned and left the room, and Ranza rolled her eyes disgustedly at the place where he’d once been. He might have been one of her superiors, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be an irritating little shit. It only meant that neither she nor any of her girls could actually _call_ him on being an irritating little shit. It was kind of annoying at times, but it was still the way things were.

Turning and heading back into the group of her fellow Zoanoids, Ranza saw that they were all going back to their assigned tasks. They were good soldiers; they knew what they had to do, and they would keep doing it until they were either done or had been issued different orders. Crouching to pick up some more debris – it looked like part of what had once been a server this time – she tossed it into the pile and moved on to the next small junkheap. It was monotonous, to be sure, but it was the job that she had been assigned.

They had somehow managed to make it out of the sewers without any more blood being spilled, though Ryan still had smudges of dried blood beneath his nose, and Agito hadn’t yet cleaned all of the blood off of his chin. Sho wasn’t quite sure why Agito and Ryan had decided they needed to fight; he didn’t know what they had thought they were going to accomplish, but Agito looked even angrier than ever.

That was in direct contrast to Ryan, who _did_ look like he had just accomplished something. Well, at least he looked calmer and happier than Agito did. Agito looked like he would start yelling at the first person who so much as looked at him sideways. Sho was careful to watch Agito out of the corner of his eye—at least when it looked like Agito was going to turn his head and catch him watching.

He was worried about both Ryan and Agito, but for varying reasons. Ryan hadn’t seemed like the type of person who could be provoked into a fight that easily, and Agito… well, he had always seemed to have some kind of reserve that made him seem completely untouchable. But Ryan hadn’t just touched him; he’d displayed an honestly disturbing willingness to hit him.

Sho hoped that they wouldn’t get into any more fights like the one they’d just had. He hoped that Ryan and Agito would be able to work out their differences – whatever they were – because otherwise Chronos would be able to pick them off very easily.

_ +Ryan, why did you attack Agito like that?+ _

_ +You really think you want to know that, Sho?+ _

_ +Of course I want to know, Ryan. You’re my friend.+ _

_ +What about Goth-boy there?+ _ Ryan asked, subtly tilting his head in Agito’s direction.

_ +He’s a friend, too, Ryan.+ _

_ +You mean Goth-boy actually  _ has _friends? That’s a surprise.+_

_ +Why do you keep calling him that?+ _

_ +He wears lots of black, and he’s a complete jerk. Hence Goth-boy.+ _

Agito shepherded them into a nondescript black car, glaring at Ryan while he climbed into the front seat and slammed the door. Ryan rolled his eyes, climbing into the back and settling himself in the seat. Sho climbed in next to Ryan, just as his fellow Guyver slammed the car door and locked it. Buckling his own seatbelt, Sho closed the door and waited for the car to start moving.

_ +Hey, Sho. Do you know why he acts like that?+ _

_ +Agito?+ _

_ +Yeah, him. Do you know?+ _

_ +I’m sorry, Ryan. But I don’t really know.+ _

_ +You don’t care, or you just never asked?+ _

_ +I’ve never asked.+ _

_ +And Goth-boy never talks about himself, right?+ _

_ +No,+ _ Sho said, realizing that it was true. _+He really doesn’t.+_

Ryan lapsed into silence, occasionally looking over at Agito, then looking away as soon as the taller boy noticed him doing it. Sho wondered what they were going to do when they made it back to the safehouse that had been prepared for them, since Ryan obviously had some sort of problem with Agito, something that had lead to him starting a fight with the other Guyver.

He hoped the three of them would still be able to work together; they needed all the power they could gather to be able to take on Chronos and win. And… to avenge Mr. Murakami and his son. Turning away from the others, not wanting to make them worry about him, Sho closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window. The others still didn’t know what had happened to Mr. Murakami.

He was glad to be going home again, but the fact was that he would have to tell the others what had happened to Mr. Murakami; otherwise… he might be able to hurt them. The same way that he had tried to hurt him; the way he would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for Ryan. For all the danger that his presence would bring them, he was really looking forward to seeing Mizuki again—her and Tetsuro and all the others. He wondered how Mr. Hayami and his fellow scientists were doing. They had to be happy to have escaped Chronos the way they did. They were all free now, and that had to mean a lot to them. Turning to look back at Ryan, he found that the other Guyver had settled back into his seat and was watching the passing scenery with a half-lidded gaze.

_ +Ryan, are you tired?+ _

_ +Well, that and kinda bored. It’s been a long day, and I’m not just referring to the parts where I had to mix it up with Chronos.+ _


	48. Reflective Days

The weary annoyance in Ryan’s voice gave some hint of how much the day had affected him, and Sho wished there was something he could do. Ryan had done so much for him, and it was only fair that he try to help the other boy in any way he could. It was all he could do, after he had all but asked Ryan to give up his home and family all for the sake of their fight against Chronos.

_ +Don’t worry, Ryan. We’ll be back home soon. And then you can meet my friends. I’m sure they’ll like you; they’re all good people.+ _

_ +Do any of them actually speak English, or am I going to have to rely on you as a translator for a change?+ _

_ +I think Tetsuro might be able to speak enough English to be able to communicate with you. And Agito, of course.+ _

_ +Well, we’ll leave him and his issues aside for now. Who’s Tetsuro, by the way?+ _

_ +Sorry,+ _ he said, wincing slightly. _+I keep forgetting that you don’t know the people I do. Tetsuro’s one of my friends. We knew each other even before I found the Guyver, and he’s been with me through everything.+_

_ +Well, that sounds like a good deal. I’m glad you had someone with you. No offense, but you really don’t seem like the type who could go it alone.+ _

_ +Why would you think I’d get offended by that, Ryan?+ _

_ +Some people don’t like what I have to say, is all.+ _

That was all he could get Ryan to say about that, though, since the red-haired Guyver turned, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. He was leaning back in the seat and looking for all the world like he was asleep. When the car pulled to a stop, and Sho gently woke Ryan up.

_ +So, where are we headed now?+ _

_ +I don’t really know.+ _

"Agito, why are we stopping here?"

"We need to change transports," Agito said flatly, turning and leaving the truck that they had been riding in. "There is a chance that Chronos agents were able to track our original vehicle. I would rather not take the chance of them finding out where we are going and being able to track us."

Put that way, it sounded like a very reasonable plan.

_ +We’re changing cars so Chronos won’t be able to follow us.+ _

_ +Well, that’s a good idea.+ _

Watching for a moment as Ryan stretched and yawned, he quickly turned his attention back to watching where they were going. Agito’s precautions in taking different cars would all be for nothing if Chronos spotted them while they were outside.

Aptom had left some time ago, claiming boredom and a need to go hunting for more food. To think that there was actually a _Zoanoid_ who subsisted on the bodies of his fellow Zoanoids. No wonder Dr. Balkus hated him and wanted him dead—all of Chronos’ Zoanoids were just meals on legs as far as he was concerned. This had been made very clear from the way he referred to them during their many conversations.

Aptom was… someone that could have been a friend, Tetsuro thought. That is, if he could ever be persuaded to give up his vendetta against Sho. But it was pretty obvious that that wasn’t really likely to happen. Not without something drastic provoking that kind of change, at least. There were times he wondered just what that "something drastic" was going to end up being. For him, there wasn’t so much doubt that it was going to happen, though. With Chronos still hard at work, something drastic was always waiting in the wings. It was just a matter of surviving it, or hiding from it in their case.

The same way they’d been doing for half a year now.

A knock at the door—the same call-and-response pattern he and Natsuki had worked out when she had first helped them to hide in the apartment her uncle had rented for her—let him know that she was home. He hurried over to the door, not wanting to wake the rest of the people who were staying with them. Once he’d opened the door, he found Natsuki there. That was good. But he could also see, just barely, three figures standing in the dark behind her.

That wasn’t so good.

The three of them were covered from head to toe in long, black raincoats, which he could understand since it was pouring down rain outside. The fact that their hoods were pulled up far enough to obscure every part of their faces aside from the chin and the bottom of their nose wasn’t so understandable. In addition to being unnerving, it made him wonder just how any of them had managed to see Natsuki well enough to follow her back to the house. But what he was really wondering was just how he’d be able to go get Mr. Hayami and Mr. Jackson without alerting whoever these new people were and possibly endangering Natsuki.

"These people aren’t bothering you, are they Natsuki?" he asked, wanting to let her know that he wanted to help her without _them_ finding out.

"Relax, Segawa. It’s us," the tallest figure said.

Tetsuro recognized the voice almost instantly. "Maka-"

A sharp shake of his head let him know that this wasn’t a good place to talk; he’d forgotten for a moment in his excitement.

"Just let us in; we’ll discuss things in the morning."

"Come right in," he said, smiling and stepping out of the way to let the three of them come out of the pouring rain.

He knew Sho had to be one of the people in raincoats that had followed Natsuki home, and when the shortest of them turned to look at him, he could see the wide, relieved smile on his face. He couldn’t help wondering just who the third person was—the one who looked around in seeming confusion at the bare walls of the main room. He was too short to be Mr. Murakami; aside from that, Mr. Murakami had died back at Mt. Minakami, and he wasn’t coming back. But neither Sho nor Agito seemed bothered by him, and Sho was even holding his hand and tugging him forward.

"Take off your shoes, Crouger," Agito said, speaking in accented English for some reason.

"Are you kidding me?" The other boy – obviously a boy from the sound of his voice – responded in unaccented English; he must have been a foreigner. "It’s like ten degrees out there. My feet are freezing as it is."

"It’s common courtesy, Crouger. But then I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?"

" _Bite me,_ you bastard," Crouger said, sounding only mildly annoyed. "I’m not walking around on a cold floor in just my socks."

"I could get some slippers for you," he suggested, trying to defuse the tension that was clearly building between Agito and Crouger.

"Thanks," Crouger said, turning to him with a smile on the visible part of his face.

He smiled back, not quite sure if the other boy could see the action but not wanting to be rude in any case. Turning and leaving the main room – it was a struggle not to go and wake up all of the others, but like Agito had said, they could talk about things tomorrow.

Right now, all he had to do was to get a pair of house slippers for Crouger—warm ones, since it was so cold outside. And he’d have to find futons for the three of them to sleep on, though Crouger probably wouldn’t be too fond of the idea. Judging by the way he acted, he was probably American, and they slept on raised beds. He still wondered what Sho and Agito had been doing for all these months, and more than that why they had brought Crouger along with them, but there would be time for all those questions and more once morning had come.

For the first time in half a year, Tetsuro was honestly excited for the morning to come.

He stared down at the house where ‘Freezer and Feline Face had turned themselves into Lost Units so they could escape from the virus. That was something new; he might have felt sorry for those lab rats if they hadn’t been a bunch of sadistic little shits who’d gotten just what they deserved.

It’d taken him a while to find the house. In the end he’d eaten a few people, then managed to find the general area by the landmarks that his fellow Lost Units had described. Now that he was seeing it, he couldn’t help thinking of his old team. Somlum would have loved the look of this place—not just the gardens, but the house itself. Dymu would have happily raided the fridge and any cupboards that he’d been able to find, and after he’d managed to fill his stomach he’d have been right out on the grounds with Somlum. Dymu was really into gardening, but he didn’t quite know why.

Maybe it had something to do with his powers—melding into the earth probably gave you some sort of feel for it. But maybe it was something more mundane than that. Maybe Dymu’d just enjoyed playing around in the dirt and there was nothing more to it than that.

He’d never known, and now he’d never get the chance to ask.

Glaring at the mansion, knowing even as he did that the thing was just an inanimate collection of wood and plaster but needing something concrete to focus his anger on, he leapt away and made for one of his newly-chosen hunting grounds. He varied them enough that Chronos wasn’t likely to be able to track him down just by following the pattern of Zoanoids that were getting themselves eaten. He’d only been using this new one for about half a week, which was probably not long enough for even that bastard Balkus to be able to track him down. He was going to move on soon, in any case, just to keep things interesting.

Back on the ground and back on the hunt, he almost found himself wondering just what the butterball and his little friends would be doing, but then he decided he didn’t care. As long as Chronos didn’t manage to get their nasty little claws into any of his prey’s little friends, he wasn’t going to bother himself with anything but keeping the little twerps safe. It wasn’t like anything interesting was going to happen this week.


	49. Friends and Family

When he woke up, a bit sore on the right side but with nothing that a nice hot shower wouldn’t cure, he first stared around the room in complete confusion. The kind of where-the-hell-am-I-and-how-the-hell-did-I-end-up-like-this kind of confusion that usually only accompanied him to hotel rooms and his first few nights in a new house.

"Well, I see you’re taking this pretty well," said a voice from behind him.

Ryan turned, and his first impression of the guy was that he needed a shave pretty urgently; he also looked a little husky. He had nice eyes, though—warm and open in a way that almost reminded him of his mother.

_ Speaking of Mom… +Hey, Captain Confusing—where’d you put my mom up?+ _

_ +Your mother has been placed in one of my safehouses, and will you stop making up stupid things to call me, Crouger?+ _

_ +Not unless  _ you _start remembering that I have an actual first name, Mr. Roboto.+_

He could swear the guy was grumbling incoherently; he had no idea how he could hear something like that, but that was the read he was getting.

"Did you sleep well, Mr. Crouger?" he asked, after they’d spent about a minute or so staring at each other.

"Yeah, once I got used to the whole sleeping-on-a-giant-pillow thing," he said, then wrinkled his nose slightly. "And could you call me Ryan? ‘Mr. Crouger’s’ going to have me looking over my shoulder for my dad all the time."

He winced internally, remembering for only the second time that his dad had chosen to stay back at the house while he’d chosen to take his chances with those Chronos guys. After what he’d seen of them, he really got the feeling that that hadn’t been the best idea. It was too late to do anything about that, though, so it was probably best that he just concentrated on what he was supposed to be doing.

Whether he was going to actually be able to _do_ that remained to be seen.

"Okay," the guy said, still smiling amicably. "It’s nice to know your first name. After what you did for Sho when you two met, calling you by your last _does_ kind of seem too formal."

The sound of wood sliding against more of the same distracted him before he could think of anything else to say. The girl that stuck her head into the room, looking around for about half a minute – taking in both him and the pudgy guy – distracted Ryan before he could think of anything to say in response. Unfortunately for him, the new girl only spoke in Japanese. It was the country for it, he knew, but it still made him acutely feel just how alone he really was. With Mom gone and Dad opting to stay back at the house, the only one he could really talk to was Sho. Well, him and the new guy.

_ Speaking of new guys… _ "So, you got a name to go with that interesting-looking stubble of yours?"

"What?" he rubbed his chin, apparently startled that the stubble in question was in fact still there. "Crap! I was so excited about seeing Sho again this morning that I forgot to shave," he grumbled, still rubbing his whiskered chin and looking like he’d forgotten all about the fact that there was another person in the room with him. Ryan starting to chuckle was probably what reminded him. "I’m sorry; my name is Tetsuro Segawa. I guess I never really thanked you for what you did for Sho, so thank you, Ryan."

Tetsuro looked sincere about what he was saying, so much so that he didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying something stupid like "the pleasure was all mine". "You’re welcome."

He was expecting that to be the end of it, so he was kind of surprised when the guy lunged – well, maybe it was a bit slow to be an actual lunge, per se – at him and started hugging him. Actually hugging him—it was kind of awkward. Kind of _really_ awkward.

"You’re hugging me," he said, as if the guy couldn’t have noticed it himself. "Why are you hugging me?"

"I don’t care how you did it, I’m just thankful you managed," Tetsuro said, and now he was rubbing his stubble-bearing cheek against Ryan’s own, which only made the awkward-vibes stronger.

"Ya know, normally I’m not one to go stomping all over someone’s gratitude, especially when it’s aimed directly at me, but could you kind of _stop hugging me now_?"

"I’m sorry," Tetsuro said, his eyes downcast and not seeming nearly so enthusiastic anymore. Ryan felt like kind of a jerk.

"It’s not like I have anything against you, I just get a little weirded-out being hugged by complete strangers." He grinned to reassure the big guy that he hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Not _too_ wrong, at least. "It’s kind of an issue I have."

"I guess that’s understandable," Tetsuro said, looking him in the eye again. "I really shouldn’t have been doing that in the first place; sorry for invading your personal space, Ryan."

"It’s fine; I didn’t mind so much. It was just kind of unexpected, you know? Why don’t we just forget it ever happened?"

Just as Tetsuro was nodding, the same girl came back into their room. He still wanted to know who she was, but now Tetsuro was speaking in rapid-fire Japanese, and he quickly lost the thread of the conversation. He might have liked those Uchuu Keiji things, but they were subtitled, and he spent most of his time reading the dialogue just to find out what the hell was going on. It almost made him wish the Veediots were here; they could probably explain just what the hell was going on.

Tetsuro was pointing at him now, and when the girl turned to look he waved. He might not have had the slightest, foggiest idea of what the hell was going on, but that was really no reason to be rude. And then, next thing he knew he was being hugged by a complete stranger for the second time that day.

"Hey, Tetsuro? You think someone pasted a sign that says ‘hug me’ to my chest without me noticing, somehow?"

The big guy laughed, but more importantly he pulled the girl off and started talking to her again. He didn’t know what the guy was saying anymore than he had before, but he was grateful to be out of the whole being-hugged-by-someone-I-don’t-know situation.

"Not that it’s not nice to be meeting new people and all, but what the heck is going on?"

"This is my sister, Mizuki," Tetsuro said, grinning like a guy without a care in the world. "She said she wants to thank you for what you did for Sho."

"I also said I wanted to tell him that _myself_ , big brother," Mizuki said, sticking her tongue out with a teasing look on her face.

Yep, those two were _definitely_ siblings.

"So, anyway, thanks for helping Sho back there, Ryan. I’m glad he met someone like you." She smiled at him, then hung her head and muttered something in Japanese.

He thought he caught a familiar name among all those syllables, but it was like trying to pick out a red bullet from a machine gun while it was firing. Barely possible, but not highly the likely. "Sorry, I don’t think I caught most of that. What did you say?"

"She’s still in shock…" Tetsuro trailed off, patting his sister on the head as she started to cry. "Over Mr. Murakami. You probably— No; I guess you _wouldn’t_ know about him."

"I’ve heard the guy’s name a few times," he said, sensing there was more to this than met the eye. Hell, he’d had to have been blind, deaf, _and_ stupid not to pick up on something like that. "And I’m fairly sure Sho told me he was his friend." He bit the tip of his pointer finger, thinking. "Though you’ve really got to wonder about a guy who’d make friends with a bloodthirsty sadist like _that_."

"There’s something you have to understand, Ryan: you weren’t dealing with Mr. Murakami. Agito told me what happened, and the Mr. Murakami we knew would never do any of the things he did to you or to Sho. He’d been fighting against Chronos for as long as we knew him, and I’m positive he’d been fighting even before then."

"Enlighten me, then: what the hell happened?"

"I’m getting to that," he said, with a slightly annoyed tone. "Anyway, when we were trapped inside one of Chronos’ largest Japanese bases – it’s been destroyed, by the way – Mr. Murakami ended up fighting Gyou, one of Chronos’ other Zoalords. He killed him, but Chronos has apparently either cloned him or revived his body somehow. The Murakami we knew – that Sho was friends with – would have never served Chronos willingly."

Sitting back, leaning on his hands, he considered what he had just heard. It definitely fit with the way Sho had acted when he’d first met the guy, _and_ with the punched-in-the-gut look he’d had when Imakarum had turned on him. It was weird to think that there were people out there who could actually raise the dead, but not so weird as it would have seemed if he _hadn’t_ seen most of what those Chronos guys could pull off. Hell, he probably should have been _expecting_ some weird-assed crap like this to be what had happened. It certainly wasn’t that much weirder than a bunch of guys who could turn themselves into hulking man-beasts at will.

"So, is there anything else I should know about?"

"Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what Sho told you, and then I can fill in anything he might have missed?" Tetsuro offered.

"That sounds good," he said, settling himself down for a long talk.

While she watched Tetsuro and Ryan, not really listening since she already knew the story so well, Mizuki tried to process the fact that Mr. Murakami was gone—worse than gone. Sho had been devastated by what had happened – none of them could really bring themselves to think of it as a betrayal; all of them knew what Chronos was capable of – and none of the others were quite ready to talk about it. Agito seemed to be coping the best, but then that had been true even before any of them had found out about Chronos. He’d always been the strong one. Maybe a little _too_ strong, she thought, wincing at the memory of Takeshiro. The people there _had_ all been turned into Zoanoids, but there had to have been something that they could have done for them.

Pushing those thoughts back into the recesses of her mind, she turned her attention back to Ryan. He was kind of nice-looking, though she didn’t quite know what to think of his red hair. It could have been dye – it would have been rude to ask, but that was probably what she was going to end up doing; it was less rude than trying to check, after all – but then he _was_ American. It could very have been real.

He was a Guyver, too, like Sho and Agito. It was nice to have another one working with them, but she’d thought that all the Guyvers had already been found and activated. She really didn’t want to think about what would happen if Chronos managed to get their hands on even one Guyver. Just one could undo everything that Sho and all their friends had worked for. But then, maybe Ryan had found the last one and there weren’t any for Chronos. That would be good; none of them would have to worry anymore, and they already had another good ally. That was what she was going to hope for, but she couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that the assumption – that was what it really was, after all – would turn out to be wrong.

When a lull in the conversation extended just a bit too long to be comfortable, she looked more closely at the her brother and Ryan in turn. Tetsuro looked the way she’d almost expected him to: like someone who’d just finished telling a painful story and wasn’t quite sure what to say next. Ryan looked a little shell-shocked, but who wouldn’t have after hearing something like that? She was having trouble believing it herself, and she’d at least known Sho well enough to know he would never lie about something like this.

Then again, Ryan had only seen Mr. Murakami as his enemy, someone who worked for Chronos and had to be stopped at all costs. That was probably why he was having such a hard time believing what a good friend Mr. Murakami had been to them all—even Agito, whom he’d never really seemed to trust.

When the door opened and Shizu came in to invite them all to breakfast, Mizuki was grateful for the break from thinking about all the horrible things Chronos had done – and was probably continuing to do – to all of those people who had been unfortunate enough to cross their path. Even Aptom, as strange and frankly scary as he could sometimes be, had clearly suffered at the hands of Chronos’ scientists.

Tetsuro had been the one to pick up on that, of course. Mizuki knew that while she could be quite a few things, perceptive wasn’t often one of them. It just wasn’t something she was good at, unlike Sho, who _could_ be perceptive but only chose to see the best in people. It might end up hurting him, especially considering the kind of people they were all up against, but she and Tetsuro had already agreed that they would help protect him.

Leaving the room behind, with Tetsuro leading their little procession and Ryan in the middle so at least one of them could help him if he got lost, Mizuki started to smell the familiar scents that meant they were close to the kitchen and, by extension, breakfast.

She wondered for a moment how Ryan would react to having breakfast with them—she’d read that Americans had different kinds of things to eat than people did here. _Well, I’m sure we can find something he likes if there isn’t any of it on the table. Besides, Shizu always fixes great food._


	50. Secrets of Necessity

The inspection of the Antarctica Research Station had gone well – he’d taken Kenji along to show him all of the Zoanoid types that were being worked on. With what his son had done for Chronos, Imakarum thought he deserved a little reward, and they’d had a rather good time. Kenji had been so adorably curious while the two of them had been touring, always wanting to know what some new breed of Zoanoid did or what the function of the various Divisions were.

Of course, he’d had to find some pretext to keep Kenji away while he was interrogating the scientists. Kenji was kind, gentle, and easily swayed by emotion, and while he loved that about his son, the things he did were of necessity cruel. Kenji would never understand that; he would be saddened by the cruelty his own father displayed, and it might even lead him to start questioning the dictates of Chronos and Lord Alkanphel.

That was something that could not be allowed.

So he had sent Kenji off to the cafeteria, or to look out at the vast expanse of snow, or to play his childishly amusing games with the various Zoanoids he found. None of the Lost Numbers were permitted in the same room with his son, of course. Kenji had had too bad an experience with Aptom – though that particular abomination could barely even be considered a _Zoanoid_ – for him to want to risk his son’s safety any more.

But now that they had returned to Cloud Tower and were once again under the protection of one of the largest of Chronos’ Japanese bases, Imakarum felt at last that he could relax. There was no pressing matter that he had to attend to at the moment, nothing keeping him from simply enjoying his time with Kenji as he’d already delivered his report to Lord Hamilcal. And now he was again making the best of the time he and Kenji had together. It _was_ possible for him to refuse to perform the tasks that Lord Hamilcal asked him to: he was about equal to him in influence, if not in Council ranking, but it would have felt… unseemly to do such a thing. Lord Hamilcal was one of Lord Alkanphel’s closest friends, the first of the Council and the one who had discovered Chronos’ Supreme Overlord in the first place. Denying Lord Hamilcal anything simply didn’t sit well with him.

"Well, now that you’ve finished your meal, Kenji-chan, what would you like to do?"

"Can we go have cake now?"

Imakarum chuckled; his son had been asking for that very thing almost since they had left the Antarctica Research Station. "Very well. I suppose you’ve had enough actual food inside you, so you won’t get _too_ hyper. I know a good bakery near the Tower," he continued, helping Kenji out of his seat. "Would you like to eat there or come back here?"

"Um," Kenji paused, obviously thinking carefully about his decision. Imakarum thought it was adorable, and Kenji was certainly the only Zoalord whose most important decisions included whether or not he wanted to eat at a bakery. "Is it a nice bakery?"

"It’s nice enough as bakeries go," he said, not particularly in the mood to eat in a public place, but willing to tolerate it for Kenji’s sake. "It smells like cake most of the time."

"That sounds neat," Kenji said, smiling and picking up a last piece of chicken that he’d evidently missed while he’d been eating. "But… I don’t really think I want to eat there. Is that okay, Dad?"

"Of course it is, son," he said, smiling. "Would you like me to pick up a cake for you, so we can eat it here?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically.

"All right then," Imakarum said, smiling. "Do you want me to get a chocolate cake again, like last time?"

"Yeah, I really like those."

"All right then," he said, reaching over to tousle the boy’s hair. "I’ll be back soon."

Standing, Imakarum patted Kenji on the head a last time before he teleported off to purchase the cake that his son wanted.

 XxXxX

When he’d finished the meal, which had been really similar to the ones he’d had back home – without scrambled eggs, which kind of sucked – he’d been kind of surprised that Sho hadn’t jumped up to volunteer to do the dishes. But the more he’d thought about it, the more sense it had started to make. Sho, for all his helpfulness, was obviously still broken up over what had happened to his friend.

And, now that Tetsuro had told him just how close those two had been, he felt he could understand at least some of what was going on. Maybe not all of it—he hadn’t known the guy nearly long enough to claim anything like that—but he could at least make some educated guesses.

"Ryan, there you are!" Tetsuro called, peeking into the room.

He’d gone back to the room where he’d first woken up, craving some quiet time to think about what had happened to him and what he was going to end up doing from now on. He’d also wanted to give Sho and/or Tetsuro a break from having to translate all that Japanese for him. He could make a guess at recognizing a few words from context, but none of the sounds were even remotely familiar and everyone talked so damn _fast_ that he couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying most of the time. It’d been extremely frustrating, hence his wanting to get away from it.

"Anything specific you had in mind to tell me, Tetsuro?

"Agito wants to talk to all of us in the main room."

_ Joy.  _ "Okay, just give me a few minutes to get this thing rolled back up," he said.

Originally, rolling out the futon had been just so he’d have something comfortable to lie ~~lay~~ on while he was trying to mull things over. He hadn’t figured that it would help him to avoid Mr. High-and-Mighty, but hey; whatever worked.

"Just don’t take too long, all right?"

_ Define "too long". _ "I’ll keep that in mind," he said, grinning.

Tetsuro left soon after that, and Ryan sighed. So much for a restful afternoon. Sho would be there, since "all of us" pretty much automatically included him, so maybe he’d be able to keep Agito from being such a bastard. Deciding that he’d adopt his usual I’ll-be-civil-if-you-will approach to the impending situation, Ryan started to roll up the futon to put with the rest of them. He’d found that it really helped if he thought of the thing as a sleeping bag instead of a bed or a really huge pillow. Rolling up sleeping bags was almost second nature to him, what with all of the camping trips he, his dad, and Uncle Albert had been on. Thinking of his dad was pretty much guaranteed to make him morose these days, what with everything that had happened.

He hoped the old man was all right, but the not knowing was really starting to wear on him. Of course, not knowing was a lot better than a few things he could think of, he mused, wincing slightly as he remembered what Tetsuro had been telling him just that morning. He didn’t wonder why Sho hadn’t told him, since it was pretty damn obvious to anyone who was paying attention that Sho didn’t like to think about what had happened back in the ‘States. Hell, if he’d been in that same situation, he would have probably felt the exact same way.

Deciding that he might as well bite the bullet now as wait for the His Supreme Assness to come in and yell at him for holding up whatever kind of meeting they were going to have, Ryan picked up the futon and manhandled it over to the pile where the others had all been stored. Heading for the main room (the living room, as he called it, even though no one else seemed to), Ryan wondered for about half a minute what they were all going to be talking about before he decided that since he was going to be there in a few seconds anyway, he could wait at least that long to find out.

"So, here I am," he said, peeking around the threshold even as he slid the door into the wall; these things had always reminded him of Star Trek. Low tech and all, but still. "What’d you want to talk about?"

"Crouger," Agito said, and Ryan decided to ignore the sight inflection on his name; he was being civil here. "We were waiting for you to arrive, what kept you?"

"Napping, mostly. But I had to roll that futon-thing back up, you know," he said easily.

"What _did_ you want to talk to all of us about, Agito?" Natsuki, who was a nice girl and nice to look at in Ryan’s opinion, asked.

"With all of the Zoanoids that Chronos has in this area, it is simply not in our best interests to stay here anymore," he said. "I’ve arranged transportation out of the country for all of us. My forces will be coming here late tonight, since this kind of operation is best carried out under the cover of darkness."

"Wait," Tetsuro said, sounding mildly confused. "I’m pretty sure Zoanoids have enhanced senses even in human form. What good would moving out in darkness do?"

"It would serve to hide us from any of Chronos’ unprocessed collaborators in this area." He looked over at the two guys who’d said they were some kind of Zoanoid called a Lost Number—Ryan couldn’t think of their names at the moment, but he was sure they would come back to him eventually. "From what Jackson and Hayami have told me, the Zoanoid population in this area is being significantly reduced by Aptom’s predation. This will make our escape all the easier."

_ Only you could be so happy about people getting eaten. Jerk.  _ "So, where are we going to stay? I mean, it’s not like we can go back to my house, since Chronos knows about it and all."

"Ryan brings up a good point," Tetsuro said. "Where _are_ we going to be able to stay? We only got this place because Natsuki’s aunt knows us and is willing to keep our secret. Even her uncle hasn’t been let in on _that_."

"I know that, as things stand, our position is precarious. But I’ve been working with some branches of the military that have been made aware of the situation." He paused, probably thinking about how he would talk them all into doing what he wanted. "I have arranged for a safehouse to be prepared for us to stay in."


End file.
